A/N: Hi guys, here is Chapter 11. I'm wrestling with a few things, and it may seem a bit whiny, but here goes. I really really have a problem with "Update soon" reviews. Neil Gaiman, one of my favourite authors, wrote a blog post about it, called Entitlement Issues. There are people who tell me, "You should be flattered you're getting reviews at all." I would rather not have reviews than people who just say "NEXT!" or "UPDATE SOON." It really strikes me as rude, especially since this is fanfiction and I am not receiving any money for this. To be completely honest, everytime I get a review like this, it makes me not want to finish the story at all. I do get that you're excited, but that's not the right way to get me excited to write more. The problem is, no matter how hard people work at their stories, it is like telling them, it's not good enough, you're not doing enough.
In fact, I would rather have someone say they hated the story, than have someone just say "Update now." As Neil Gaiman says, writers are not your b*****s. This is fanfiction, after all, something we all do voluntarily. I will try to keep updating regularly, and no amount of nagging will make me write faster or slower.
We are all learning together, so please, I did not mean to offend anyone, but I felt this needed to be said. There is a reason why people are moving away from FFN to other writing sites, and this is one of the main reasons, from what I've heard.
I also wanted to say thank you to all the people who take the time to say something, because it really does mean a lot. People are busy, and we all have our own lives, and I appreciate people dropping a line to just say hi. I am humbled whenever I hear how someone likes this (because I know I am not a very good writer and you guys have been amazing.) That said, I want to make it clear: I am writing this because I love Misa and Usui as much as you guys do, so thank you for sharing all the love. You guys may hate me after this, and I totally understand. Wishing you all the best, ok? Have a great weekend.
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XI.
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As soon as Misaki is out of sight, Igarashi turns to Takumi. "So, did you guys end up doing it?" His tone is casual as he straightens Takumi's collar, the same collar that Misaki crumpled in her fists mere minutes ago.
"What?" Heat rushes to Takumi's face. He isn't sure how to react, and doesn't like how easily the other boy can see through him.
"She asked me how to get to you, so I told her which room you were staying in." Igarashi wags his eyebrows suggestively, hooking an arm around his neck.
Takumi shrugs out of his hold, glaring at him. "I'm going to grab a bite to eat," he mutters.
"Hey, why are you so mad?" Igarashi laughs. "I guess you didn't get laid?"
Takumi ignores him, walking away. He hears the other boy laugh, but he doesn't understand it at all. Igarashi grabs the sleeve of his jacket.
"What?" He cannot hide the irritation in his voice, though there is a healthy dose of guilt mixed in as well.
"Don't forget your mission," the boy states, an edge creeping into his voice.
Takumi's hands clench into fists. He yanks his arm out of the other boy's grip, resuming his path to the kitchen. This is messed up, he thinks as he stomps away, his footsteps muffled by the carpet.
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In the morning, he is awakened by the valet, a small team of stylists and tailors, and a grinning Igarashi.
"We need to take your measurements for your suit, President. Gotta make sure you're dressed properly for the party," the blond boy proclaims as they drag him into the cavernous bathroom.
Later, Takumi strides out, his hair perfectly styled, and wearing a suit that the tailors had literally put together in an hour. He does not want to know how much it cost, but he is begrudgingly impressed by how rich people do things.
"Wow, President," Igarashi exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly. "You clean up pretty nicely." Now it is the other boy's turn to get ready, and Takumi joins the entourage as they head to Igarashi's suite. He doesn't really know what else to do at this point.
He watches, pretending interest, as his host is groomed, styled, and dressed, in a similar way, but he notes that Igarashi is clad in a white suit, emphasizing the paleness of his hair and skin. The valet slips a lily boutonniere on his lapel, and Takumi averts his gaze as the other two exchange what can only be described as a loving look. Checking his watch, he sees that it is now past two.
"Are you hungry?" Igarashi inquires. "We can have lunch sent up."
"Ah, I'll just grab some food from the kitchen. Do you want me to get any food for you?" Takumi offers, desperate to get out of there.
"No, but your guests should be arriving soon. Also, don't wander around too much. Misa and her father are in the study with my parents, you probably shouldn't show your face to them without me," the other boy advises. There are undercurrents in his statement, but Takumi does not want to know anymore.
So Misaki is here. He isn't ready to face her yet. A blush spreads across his cheeks as he remembers his shameful behaviour with her. No, he had better avoid her. Igarashi and the valet launch a discussion on the merits of necktie knots.
He cannot listen to any more of this. He rises to his feet. "I can leave after tonight, right?" Takumi asks.
"Of course," Igarashi replies, lounging back in the leather chair. He looks like a groom in his all-white suit, Takumi realizes. Probably not an accident.
Igarashi grabs the back of his perfectly-fitting coat, halting him.
"Don't forget that you are the Student Council President of Seika High School, President Usui," the other boy tells him, releasing his coat. "It does not matter if the other people are the Prime Minister or some idol or whatever. You've every right to be here, just as they do."
Oddly touched, Takumi glances at the other boy's face, but Igarashi has averted his gaze. He nods, awkwardly, wondering what Igarashi is thinking. He heads down the stairs to his room, lost in thought as he washes his hands.
He strides to his balcony again, not sure what to do with himself. 'Three days at this mansion has made me soft,' he thinks, raking a hand through his hair. The view of the ocean never got old, though.
A movement from a second-floor window below catches his attention. A smile spreads across his face as he sees Misaki, her skin glowing in the red and black colors of an expensive-looking furisode. He cannot see her face, but her hair is up in some complicated knot.
Immediately, his mind tries to work out the puzzle of how to undo the hairstyle, and his fingers itch to touch her, remembering how smooth her skin was. He shakes his head abruptly to clear it.
'No,' Takumi tells himself sternly, slapping himself. His cheek stings, but he cannot tear his eyes away from her as she wanders to the window, wearing her usual blank expression. Her eyebrows are drawn together, though, and her chin goes up. Takumi can tell she is unhappy.
A man's hand falls on her shoulder, slim-fingered and full of rings. Her whole body tightens up, though her expression does not change. Then the owner of the hand comes closer to the window, and Takumi sees the head of the Japanese Parliament, Ryutaro Genji.
Now that they are next to each other, Takumi can see how much she resembles her father, from the golden eyes to the high cheekbones. He has a cruel smile, and his eyes are cold as he gazes at his daughter. They turn, speaking to someone out of sight, and Mister Genji's hand grips her arm behind her back.
Takumi's temper rises when he sees the older man's fingers dig into her wrists, making her jerk away from him. Quickly, he whirls around, storming out the door to head to wherever she is. The hallways fly past him as he sprints, but all he can think about is getting her away from the bastard who is hurting her.
He takes a couple of wrong turns but finally gets his bearings, skidding to a halt in front of the door to the study. Raised voices are audible through the door, giving him pause. Then, he realizes that he is hearing laughter, not anger. Right when he turns the doorknob, something big tackles him.
"Takumi! The man out front told us you were here!" Subaru howls, picking him up and spinning him in circles like a long-lost boyfriend. Another body jumps on them, and Takumi staggers under the weight of Hotaru.
"We were looking all over for you," Satsumi greets, herding them down the hallway. "Igarashi-san told us to come early and hang out."
"Nice digs," Eiji chimes in, joining them.
"Wait," Takumi protests, struggling to free himself from the tangle of arms. "I need to-"
At that moment, the doors open and men in black suits and earpieces exit, escorting Misaki, her father, and the Igarashi parents.
Two men herd them out of the way, making room for the group. Misaki's eyes collide with Takumi's, and everything goes silent. She is breathtaking as always, the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders pointing to her noble upbringing. There is fear in her eyes, and warning as her father follows her gaze.
"Who are these fine young men?" The statesman booms, a practiced smile on his face.
"Th-the Prime Minister!" Satsumi gasps out. The other two boys cease their horseplay immediately, eyes widening in awe.
"Hey, wait, isn't that your-" Takumi manages to slap his hand over Eiji's mouth before he can blurt out his mistaken assumption.
"Ah, yes, this is Tora's friend," Mrs. Igarashi announces with a brittle smile, stopping their procession. "He is the Student Council President of our Misa's school. Darling Tora brought him here, apparently they are now best friends. You know him, of course, Misa dear?"
Her eyes meet his again and then fall away. "Yes, Mother-in-law. Father, this is President Takumi Usui of Seika High School," she begins, and then stops. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling too well. May I go ahead to my room? I would like to rest before tonight's festivities."
"Certainly," the adults murmur amongst themselves as she flees down the hallway.
Takumi bows from the waist, unable to look at Prime Minister Genji a second longer. Satsumi and the others follow suit, and the procession continues.
"Takumi," Subaru clears his throat roughly, clapping a hand on his back. "We interrupted you. What were you going to do?"
What could he do to save Misaki from her father? Takumi has to swallow past the lump in his throat to answer. "Let's go find something to eat."
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Before the party starts, Takumi heads back to his room to pack. He cannot stay here one more night, not with all of these events going on.
He opens the door to find Misaki standing in his room, staring at the bed. "Misaki? What are you doing here?"
She whirls around, roses blooming in her cheeks. "President, I didn't know where you were. You weren't responding to my messages."
So he is the President again. "Ah, I didn't bring my phone on this trip," he replies, wondering if it would be alright to walk up to her and kiss her. She nods, her brows furrowing.
"I wanted to ask… Your friends from the butler cafe, can they be trusted?" Her gold eyes are full of worry.
"I've told them not to say anything, and if anyone asks, they know Igarashi from work, not you," Takumi reassures her, crossing the room. "Satsumi is our boss, and he knows Igarashi, so he already warned them not to say anything."
"I see." The silence settles between them, heavy and awkward.
"President, I-"
"Misaki, are you-"
They stop abruptly. "I'm sorry, please go ahead," Misaki says, lowering her head. She is wearing the same familiar scent, making his chest hurt.
"How are you- I saw your father grab you earlier," Takumi ventures. She pushes her wrists behind her back, though they are hidden by the long sleeves of her kimono-dress. Misaki averts her gaze, the same blank expression on her face that used to infuriate him. Now he understands why, and it breaks his heart.
"I am fine, President. Please do not worry," she murmurs, closing her eyes. Her lower lip trembles slightly. When she faces him again, her eyes are dark and empty.
She is slipping through his fingertips like water, and he is losing her. Panic grips Takumi. "You don't have to do this, you know? You will always have a choice," he bursts out, taking her shoulders. "Misaki, you're only 16, for crying out loud. You shouldn't have to get married. Why don't you go to the police?"
Now there are tears in her eyes, and the mask slips. "You don't know what you're talking about, Takumi," she exhales, fighting not to cry. He catches the tears with his fingertips, not caring anymore.
"Let's run away, Misaki, just you and me. Right now, let's just leave," he urges.
"Takumi," she breathes, her cheeks hot under his hands. "Don't do this."
"Let's leave, Misa," he repeats, pressing a kiss on her forehead as his fingers catch more tears. "Let's go somewhere they won't find us, and just be happy."
"I can't." Her voice is so faint, he can barely hear her. "I'm the daughter of the Prime Minister of Japan, Takumi. They will hunt us down to the ends of the earth." She smiles faintly, a bittersweet twisting of her lips. "I'm surprised I got to do as much as I did with you, and I am truly grateful. But this… I… Thank you, President."
"I lo-" Her hand covers his mouth before he can say it. He can feel the frantic thrumming of her pulse beneath his fingers as he grabs her wrist, pressing a kiss on the inside. She shakes her head, sucking in a shuddering breath.
"Please, please don't make this more difficult," she pleads. He knows that if she wants to leave, she can just step away. When she meets his eyes again, Takumi can see everything she is feeling, and it takes his breath away.
Just then, the door swings open.
"Ah, here she is," Igarashi drawls, leaning against the doorjamb. His valet is right behind him, and then a woman steps into the room.
"Misaki, I heard you were-" The woman's words stop abruptly as she catches sight of Takumi.
He jerks away from Misa, staring at the newcomer as all the blood drains from his face.
Igarashi waltzes in, taking Misaki by the hand and pulling her away. Takumi is frozen in place. And the woman, in her shock, sinks to her knees.
"Takumi?" It has been years since he last heard his mother's voice calling out his name. The abandoned child in his head wants to run to her, but he is not that child anymore. "What are you doing here? How did you get involved with the Igarashis? You should not be here, Taku."
"Do not call me that," he snarls, jerking away. "You have no right to call me that. You gave up all rights to me when you walked away from us."
She stares at him for a long moment, and nods, lowering her eyes. He hates this, this meek woman who is a far cry from the laughing mother of his memories. Even so, she is his mother, and he cannot bear the fact that she is on her knees before him.
"Mother, get up," he mutters, averting his gaze as he helps her to her feet. She lets go of his hands the moment she can, and it hurts. She isn't dressed for the party; he supposes mistresses have no place in big family parties.
Once she is standing, she backs away from him, folding her arms. "Takumi, answer me. What are you doing here?"
"Father has been asking about you." He strides to the window, shoving his hands in his pockets as his thoughts descend into chaos. What is his mother doing here? Could it be…
"Are you... with Mr. Igarashi…?" He cannot force the words out of his mouth, though he is sure of the answer. A hand comes to his shoulder, startling him.
"What were you doing with Misa?" More questions. Why does she say Misaki's name fondly, as if she were Ayuzawa's mother? Her fingers dig into his suit jacket, irritating him further.
"I'm a guest of Tora Igarashi," he mumbles. "And Misaki and I go to school together."
But his mother hears the truth in his words. "It's more than that, isn't it? The way she was looking at you, the way you were holding her. Takumi, are you in love with Misaki?" Her fingers are icy as she grabs his hand.
He shakes it off, keeping his eyes out the window.
"Oh, Taku," his mother sighs. "I know she went to your school because she was curious about you, but… I never thought you would actually... This is my fault. I'm sorry."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I… That poor child. She would come from her father's house, terrified of her own shadow and I missed you boys so much so I would tell her stories about you. Misa was naturally curious about you, of course, and I was so proud of you, the top student in your school. It was surprising when she enrolled in Seika, but I thought maybe she wanted a chance at a normal life so I supported it. Anything to get her away from her father would help. I guess I should have considered that she wanted to meet you." Takumi closes his eyes, ignoring the ache in his chest.
She continues, "But, if I may offer you some advice. Takumi, please, do not get involved with Misaki. There are bigger things going on than you imagine, and Tora is the only one who can keep her safe."
When he doesn't respond, she sighs. "I've been a terrible mother, and I'm probably the last person you want to listen to. But please, I don't want you to get caught up in this. I love Misa like a daughter, but you can't protect her like Tora can."
"Leave me alone," he says wearily, unable to look his mother in the eye. "Please, just leave."
Her footsteps are quiet as she exits the room, much quieter in this house that isn't hers. He wonders where she will be while the party is going on, but decides that maybe it isn't any of his business now. He leans his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes.
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The party is loud, full of sparkling people. Takumi is overwhelmed and exhausted by the time he joins his co-workers. Classical music from the full orchestra has them yelling at each other to be heard.
"You can smell the money in the air," Eiji quips as they make their way through the ballroom.
"Observe how real butlers work," Satsumi orders them.
Igarashi's valet appears, grabbing Takumi's elbow. "President Usui, you are to be seated at a different table," he murmurs.
Takumi nods, following the older man. He looks up to meet Igarashi's gaze from across the room. The other boy smiles slowly, sending him a wink.
Annoyed, he changes directions, feeling stifled by the room. "I'm going to the bathroom," he tells the valet, heading to the door. The hallways are quieter, and now he can hear himself think.
The security guards nod at him as he strides past them, looking for a quiet place. Somehow, he finds himself in the study, the same room where he met with Igarashi two days ago. He crosses it to warm his hands by the fire, when a voice stops him.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
He turns to find Aoi Hyodo sprawled on a leather chair, looking uncomfortable in a frilly dress. With a sigh, he turns back to the fire. "Your uncle's in there. Did you come here with him?"
"Heck, no. My parents are here too, which is why I'm in this stupid outfit. Make sure you impress Tora Igarashi, Mother said," Aoi mocks, rolling her eyes. "As if. Igarashi-sempai is taken, and besides, he's definitely not my type. Besides, what kind of pedophile would he be if he hit on me? Parents are weird."
"Parents are definitely weird," Takumi agrees, wondering why the heat of the fire isn't sinking into his skin. His chest is frozen still.
"So, I heard that your girlfriend is actually Igarashi-sempai's fiance. Doesn't that make you the third party?" Aoi asks, walking up to glare at him. Takumi pulls her back just in time to prevent her flouncy skirt from catching fire, though he cannot meet her eyes.
"She's not my girlfriend," he mutters, scowling at the youngster.
"I don't know, that kiss was pretty intense." Good Lord, how much had Aoi seen? He shakes his head, hearing footsteps.
"Didn't you really like her?" Aoi persists, sticking her face in front of his.
"That's not-" He trails off as the voices from outside drown him out.
"I can't do this," a girl says, right by the door. "I can't go through with the wedding. I'm truly sorry, and I want you to be happy, but I can't."
"But he can't keep you safe from your father," another voice responds. "Not like I can. And look, you can do whatever you want with him, get him out of your system. This is going to pass. We're teenagers, we're hormonal, I understand. You think you love him, Misa, but all he'll do is make you miserable."
Aoi raises an eyebrow.
Takumi's ears heat up, though his heart rate has kicked into overdrive. Is Misaki choosing him?
The guilt sets in. Why did his mother say only Tora could keep her safe? The image of Misaki's bruises comes back to haunt him. He had been impulsive earlier, asking her to run away with him, but at the end of the day, what chance does he stand against the Prime Minister of Japan?
The knob turns.
"I wasn't serious about her," Takumi blurts out, pretending not to hear them come in. "She's the queen of Seika, after all, and nobody could get her, so I thought she was a challenge. It was much easier than I thought, getting her to fall in love with me."
An intake of breath makes him cringe. Misaki stands in the doorway, wearing a coat over her dress. The high heels dangle from her fingertips, as if she was getting ready to run. Her face is expressionless, though something about her stillness breaks his heart. She stares at him.
'It's for the best,' he tells himself, though his hands are icy again. 'For her own good.' To drive the point home, he lets his lips twist into a sneer. "Here she is now, all hail the Queen."
Misaki turns, and he can see the quiver of her lower lip. Her spine stiffens, and she walks out the room, head held high, leaving Igarashi standing in her wake.
The other boy meets his eyes, and nods. Then, he runs after Misaki.
Aoi whacks him on the back, but Takumi barely feels it. "You are an idiot, aren't you, Usui?" There is pity in her gaze as well.
He turns back to the flames, lost in thought.
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Later that night, Takumi watches the announcement of the wedding date from his front-row seat. Misaki is pale, her eyes blank as Igarashi kisses the back of her fingers to the cheers. She does not change her expression when he kisses her, though for a brief moment, her eyes meet Takumi's. Then, she closes them, slipping an arm around Igarashi's neck.
Takumi makes his way to his group. "I'll wait for you outside," he tells them, unable to bear any more of this.
Outside the ballroom doors, he runs into his mother. Her eyes are sympathetic as she reaches up to touch his face. "I'm sorry, Taku. I know you loved her, but this is for the best."
"You better go before the reporters or the other family members catch sight of you," he tells her, leaning away from her fingers.
"You've grown up so well," his mother whispers, hurt on her face.
"Goodbye," Takumi replies, walking away.
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