A/N: Okay guys, thank you so much for your patience. This story is almost at the end. Thank you again. I know they're OOC mostly, and I appreciate that you continued to read them anyway. You guys rock. Epilogue is next.
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XII.
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Two months fly by and now Takumi is at the airport for his flight to London.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asks Sasuke, fingers tightening around his luggage as he stares out the glass to the waiting plane.
"I'm fine, big brother," Sasuke replies with a laugh, wrapping a scarf around Takumi's neck. They exchange a look.
His dad clears his throat, hair combed neatly and wearing his worn-out shirtsleeves from his days as a salaryman. He is emotional as he reaches out to touch Takumi's shoulder with shaking fingers. "Son…," he croaks. His dad is sober this early in the day, a rare occurrence.
Takumi pulls him into a hug, realizing that he hasn't embraced his father in years. "Dad, it's okay. I'll be okay." His father feels frailer, smaller than he remembers. Maybe it is Takumi who has grown, but now his father has to tilt his head back to look him in the eye.
"I'm sorry for being a terrible father, Taku…," the older man begins, but Takumi shakes his head.
"Just take care of Sasuke, please," he says, forcing a smile on his face. "I'll write every day."
Behind them, a mass of Seika students wave at him, some of them in tears. "Bye, President!" Yukimura squeaks, waving. His other friends are there too, they must have left school en masse during their lunch break to see him off. The three senior girls are here too, smirking at him. "Please come back soon!"
He waves, touched by their presence. "Thanks for coming, everyone!" When Takumi smiles, some girls shriek in reaction, as if he was an idol.
His eyes scan the crowds, though time is running out. "Bro, you have to go, they announced your flight," Sasuke pokes him.
"Yes, right!" he mutters, checking his ticket.
"President, where is your girlfriend?" Nose-ring asks. "She should at least see you off."
"Ah, I have to go!" Takumi blurts out, bowing to the crowd.
"Girlfriend?" his dad asks curiously.
He shakes his head. "Goodbye, everyone. See you again."
As he turns, he catches sight of gold eyes from the corner of his eye, from the mezzanine level overlooking the airport area. Taking was careful not to check the papers or news, as he had promised her, but his heart is racing. Is she here?
He stares at the empty second floor level, disappointment churning in his chest. No, he must have imagined it.
Blinking, he shakes his head to clear it. "Okay, guys," Takumi begins, but then Misaki peeks out from behind a pillar, her dark hair now shoulder-length. He stops abruptly, his eyes locking onto hers.
The ghost of a smile crosses her face. She waves and sends him a wink. To his horror, Takumi can feel himself blushing. He squints at her, though, trying to see if there is a ring on her finger.
Igarashi pops up beside her, waggling his fingers too. Takumi scowls, stomping down the walkway into the plane.
As the flight takes off, he rests his chin on his fist, all nervousness gone, though his heart hurts. So did they really get married? He sighs, settling in for the long flight.
Six months later
Takumi is awakened by his buzzing phone. "H-hello. Yes?" he slurs, sitting up. The number is unknown.
"Takumi? It's Tora."
He groans, collapsing back on the bed. "What is it, Igarashi? It's six in the morning here."
"Listen, Takumi, I'm calling to tell you about Misaki," Igarashi says, his voice unusually somber. "She was in a car accident tonight, with her father. Ryutaro Genji was killed instantly."
"What?" Takumi bolts upright a second time, now completely awake. "How is Misa?"
"She's sedated, but fine," Igarashi sighs. Takumi can hear the weariness in his voice. "It happened about eight hours ago. She doesn't know yet. President, I don't know how to tell her."
Takumi really cannot blame him. He cannot imagine what it would be like to tell Misaki her father was dead, even if their relationship had been complicated. He blurts out, "Would you like me to come back?"
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he freezes. What is he doing, offering this? He has no place in that world, a fact made all too clear to him that night six months ago. They are probably married, and it is not his place to interfere.
"Will you?" Igarashi sounds relieved. "Please, if you could come, it would make things easier. I'll send the jet for you." As if London was a few blocks away. Resentment makes Takumi clench his fists, but he knows now is not the time for that.
"Fine, I'll take a short leave of absence and head back," he sighs.
"Yes, text me when you are at the airport. We may already have a plane there," Igarashi tells him. "And, President? Thank you."
As Takumi hangs up, he stares at the smartphone, wondering what on earth he is doing.
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It turns out that the most time he can take off as a scholarship student is five days. Seven, if you include the weekend. But Takumi takes it anyway. In an hour, he is at the Heathrow airport, escorted by men in sunglasses and black suits to a lavishly appointed jet. On the plane, he falls asleep almost instantly, unconscious for most of the ten-hour flight.
When he arrives, he is whisked away immediately from Narita via limousine to a private hospital. He notes that Tokyo is decked in black banners and photos of Ryutaro Genji. The people outside have grim expressions on their faces.
A row of nurses awaits him at the hospital lobby, and they point him to the exclusive penthouse elevator. Security guards escort him from the ground floor, through the clustered journalists and camera crews, and help him get through to the elevator. He is glad that he isn't famous. The media mostly ignores him.
Though he is shocked at the display of wealth, he also welcomes it as it expedites his way to Misaki.
Igarashi is sitting on a bench in the hallway, his head in his hands. "Iga- Tora," Takumi calls out. It was way past time that he and the other boy were on a first name basis.
"Takumi," the other boy greets, unfolding himself from the seat. "How was the flight?"
"Tell me about Misaki," he insists. Tora runs a hand through his already rumpled hair, and Takumi can see the dark circles under his eyes.
"She hasn't woken up yet," Tora explains. "The sedative should have worn out by now but she just isn't waking up. The doctors say she is just taking time to heal. It's alright, though, it seems to be fairly normal. They've scanned her, and there are no internal haemorrhages. It might be the concussion, she took a pretty hard hit to the head, near the eyes. They're bandaged, just in case you panic. She's not blinded or anything like that. I had a bit of a scare too when I saw her. "
Takumi nods, noting how exhausted Igarashi sounds. The valet appears, scowling. "Master Tora, you should be resting. You haven't slept in two days," he orders, grabbing the younger man by the shoulders. "And Master Usui, welcome back."
"Just go ahead inside," Tora mutters, waving at the door. "I'll join you in an hour."
"Two hours," the valet corrects, dragging him away.
Takumi pushes the door open, and the first thing that hits him is the scent of the room. It does not smell like any hospital he has ever been in. In fact, it smells more like a spa or a hotel. The size of the room alone is bigger than the first floor of his house. His attention is immediately drawn to the bed in the centre, where Misa rests. The beep of the monitors around her break the silence of the room.
Dropping his bag, Takumi staggers closer until he is standing by the bed.
A bandage decorates her eyes, like Igarashi said, and a purplish-yellow peeks out from the white gauze. The cut on her lip draws his fingers, though he stops before he touches her, remembering how soft they were. She sleeps deeply, a fairy princess under a spell.
"Hey," he sighs. "You look like you got into a fight and lost."
She is even more battered than the last time he saw her, and in the hospital bed, she looks like a child. Takumi strokes the hair away from her forehead, swallowing past the lump in his throat that appeared when he saw her.
"Come on, Ayuzawa, you have to wake up."
Her skin is soft, so delicate it feels like it would tear if he pushed down too hard. He traces her eyelashes with his fingertips, stroking her brows as he fights his emotions. Still, she sleeps, her breathing even.
The beeping of the heart monitor picks up, catching his attention.
"Can you hear me?" Takumi asks, leaning closer to her ears. He checks the door to make sure it is firmly shut, then whispers, "I came back to wake you, Misaki. I wanted to tell you..."
At that moment the door opens, and Takumi straightens up, turning to face the new arrival. To his surprise, his mother stands in the doorway, clutching Misaki's grey hoodie in her hands.
"Taku… what are you doing here? Why aren't you in London?" she demands, walking up to him.
Emotion thickens his throat. "Mom…," he chokes out. What is it, Takumi wonders, that makes every cell in his body cry out at the sight of his mother?
Wordlessly, she hugs him. He tries to summon his hostility but it doesn't come. Closing his eyes, he tries to contain himself. It has been years since she touched him like this, stroking his hair like he was a little boy again.
Why is he this upset? Misaki is merely asleep, he tells himself. She will wake soon.
When his mother releases him, her cheeks are wet. "I'm sorry," his mother sobs. "I'm sorry for abandoning you and Sasuke. I've been a failure as a mother, and I know I can't expect your forgiveness." Takumi hugs her again, this time offering her comfort. He notes how much smaller she is now, and how delicate her shoulders are. "I did miss you boys so much. I'm not excusing my behaviour. Your forgiveness is much more than I deserve, Taku. I tried to take Sasuke since I thought that you could handle your father, and he was so young then. I thought he needed his mother more than you did."
"Dad hurt you," he tells her with a sigh. "I understand why you left." To his surprise, he means it. She cries harder, unburdening herself of the guilt of the years between them.
Afterwards, Takumi pulls up a chair beside Misaki's bed, and his mother sits, clutching the grey hoodie. "I gave this to her," she tells him. "When she was in middle school. She was wearing this at the time of the crash. It was covered in her father's blood, so I washed it for her." She lays the soft fabric on Misaki's chest like a blanket. "It might comfort her."
Takumi's first memory of that sweater is of Misa, in the alley behind the butler cafe, her gold eyes gleaming. He glances at the unconscious girl, his fingertips grazing hers as he remembers the panic and excitement he had felt at being discovered.
"She wore it every time I saw her outside of school," Takumi shares, his gaze raking over Misaki's sleeping face.
"She and I were alike, both of us seeking shelter in the Igarashi household from our abusive family members," his mother sighs, stroking Misaki's hair. "I never thought that she would fight so hard for you. I'm sorry about my words last time. Life is too short to run away from love."
"What do you mean?" Takumi's heart kicks up. "It's too late, anyway."
His mother meets his eyes. "She called off the marriage to Tora. Did you not see it on the news?"
He shakes his head, backing away, warmth spreading through his chest. "Misaki told me not to-" Takumi's voice cracks, and he shuts his mouth, eyes going to the unconscious girl. Taking a deep breath, he tries again. "That's not possible, I saw them together at the airport when I left. Why would Igarashi be here, then? Isn't he Misa's husband?" He does not dare raise his hopes.
"I guess you're right, technically Tora is the next of kin. Tora's father, Hideo, was a distant cousin of Misaki's mother," his mother murmurs. "That was another of the reasons for their engagement; they wanted to preserve the Ayuzawa bloodline."
"I would have taken her last name, too, if the marriage had gone through," Igarashi interrupts, appearing at the door. The blond boy saunters in and presses a kiss to Takumi's mom's cheek. She raises a hand to his head, patting his cheek lightly.
"You should get some rest," she scolds him. "How are you doing, Tora?" Takumi cannot suppress the rush of jealousy, but his mom probably spent the same amount of time in the Igarashi household as she had in the Usui home. Igarashi evades the question, though he leans into her hand.
"I'm fine. She hasn't woken yet?" Igarashi bends over the sleeping girl, brushing his lips over her forehead as his eyes meet Takumi's.
Out of place, Takumi shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he strides to the window.
"We would have called you in if she woke up," his mother sighs.
"Thanks. Takumi, is that all your luggage?" Igarashi gestures to his backpack.
Takumi nods. The other boy slings an arm around his shoulders, herding him out the door. "Come, we got you a hotel room. You must be exhausted from the flight in."
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The hotel sits on top of the hospital, and Igarashi whisks him to the penthouse floor. The suite makes his eyes hurt from the glow of the marble and furniture. It reminds him of Misaki's expensive but empty apartment, though the hotel room is better furnished.
Igarashi hands him the card key with a wink. "My suite is through those doors," he chirps, pointing, before he trudges to the bed, falling face-first.
"Right. But who will stay with Misa?" Takumi asks, dropping his backpack on the couch.
"Your mum for now. We can take shifts," Igarashi rolls over, already half-asleep. "Go shower, President. You must be tired."
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Takumi showers quickly. When he steps out, the valet is in the room, hanging a stack of clothing for him in the closet. How convenient, he thinks, scowling.
"We still have the clothes we got for you in Okinawa, President Usui." the man tells him, picking up Igarashi in his arms like a baby. "My master needs to rest. Feel free to sleep or go downstairs."
"Wait. What is your name?" Takumi asks awkwardly. "I'm not President anymore, please call me Takumi."
"I am Shinoda," the man replies with a bow. "Thank you for coming, President Usui. Master Tora would not have told you, but his father perished in the car crash that took the Prime Minister's life. His mother is currently arranging the funeral."
"What?" Shocked, Takumi sits on the bed.
"Yes. Lady Genji is all that Master Tora has left. Please do not take her away from him," the man pleads, bowing his head. "I beg of you."
Tora stirs. The man cradles him closer. Worry lines Shinoda's face as the valet looks at his master, and in spite of himself, his heart hurts at the sight. Vulnerability fills the older man's face. There is no doubt in Takumi's mind that Shinoda loves Igarashi.
He bows back and grabs some clothes before heading back to the bathroom to change. The suite is empty when he comes back out. Grabbing a sweater, Takumi heads out.
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The sun has set by the time he gets to the hospital room. His mother sits on the only couch in the room, reading an article on her phone.
"Have you told Sasuke you're here?" she asks, patting the space beside her on the sofa. Takumi shakes his head, sinking into the padded leather.
"I'm only here for a few days," Takumi sighs, studying Misa's figure on the bed. "I don't want to interrupt his studies."
"I guess I'm one to talk," his mother laughs. "I haven't made contact with him."
"How are you, though? Shinoda told me about Mr. Igarashi…," Takumi trails off. How do you ask your mother about the death of her long-term lover?
She smiles sadly, shaking her head. "Cecilia was very nice to take over the funeral arrangements. She and I decided to keep it low-key and private. I'm alright. Truly, I am. He was wonderful and most of all, he had treated me well, and I am sorry he is gone." She smiles at him, ruffling his hair. "Taku, you're old enough to understand this. I didn't love him, and he didn't love me, but that was our arrangement."
"I see," he mutters, shifting in his seat.
"Do you think I can still come home?" she asks, avoiding his gaze. Before he can answer, his mother laughs. "Of course I can't. It's too late, I guess."
"Why don't you try?" Takumi doesn't know where the words come from, but the hope on her face makes him continue. "Maybe if you talk to Dad or Sasuke?"
"Maybe I will," his mother sighs. "But, Taku, tell me how you've been. I want to know how you like studying in England." She touches his hand, smiling shyly. "I know it's a bit late but I would love to catch up."
They spend the next three hours catching up, talking about their lives.
Takumi hasn't talked to his mother like this, not ever, and realizes that she is far from the monster he imagined her to be. Instead, she is a flawed human being, and that makes it easier for him to understand her previous decisions.
"So why did you come back?" his mother asks again, glancing at the clock. It is almost ten.
"Because it is Misa," he tells her simply. She nods, accepting that.
The doors open, and Igarashi walks in. "Any word?"
Takumi shakes his head. The dark circles under Igarashi's eyes are still there, though he looks less haggard. He settles on Takumi's other side, slinging an arm around his shoulders. It feels natural now, Takumi muses, and a lot less forced.
"Have you both had dinner?" Igarashi asks. Takumi can hear the hoarseness in his voice, and thinks that if things had gone differently, Igarashi would have been his step-brother.
"No, but were you able to get some rest?" His mother shoots back.
Igarashi- no, Tora, smiles, though it is a shadow of his former grin. "A little. Come, let's grab a bite downstairs."
"You two go ahead," Takumi tells them. "I'll stay with Misa just in case she wakes up."
"Are you sure?" Tora quirks a brow. "I can grab something for you." Somehow Tora's brattiness has melted away, replaced by a quiet that wasn't there before.
Takumi smiles. "Thank you."
While they exit the room, his mother reaches up to pat Tora's shoulders. The blond boy shoots him a wary look over his shoulder. It does not bother Takumi as much as it did earlier.
He pulls the chair next to Misaki's bed, gently brushing his fingertips against hers. "So, Misa, what have you been up to?"
The next day, Takumi is shaken awake by Tora. Disoriented, he sits up. He pauses mid-stretch when he notes the black suit and white armband on the other boy.
"Sorry to wake you, President, but your mom and I have to be somewhere today," Tora drawls, slipping on an expensive pair of sunglasses. "Let me know if anything changes in Misa's condition." Takumi realizes he has not offered his condolences to Tora yet.
"Wait- Iga…," Takumi swallows hard. "Tora."
"What is it?" Tora lifts the shades, exposing his red-rimmed eyes.
"I'm… I'm sorry for your loss," Takumi tells him, laying a hand on his arm. "May I come to pay my respects?"
Tora's lips wobble dangerously, and his eyes fill with tears. Then, inhaling deeply, the other boy regains his composure and nods, putting the sunglasses back on.
"Thank you for offering," he replies, clearing his throat. "But you need to be with Misa right now. I appreciate the thought, President."
Over Tora's shoulder, Shinoda makes eye contact with him, his black gaze piercing Takumi's. He scowls and turns, following Tora's exit down the hallway.
.
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The doctor comes by at noon to check Misaki's stats. "It's worrisome that she has not regained consciousness," she tells Takumi, "but Miss Genji may just be taking her time to wake. This is not unheard of."
As jet-lag catches up with him, Takumi falls asleep on Misa's bedside. He dreams about chasing her underwater through a forest of seaweed, and his butler uniform weighs him down. Her pale skin glimmers just out of reach, and he makes it to shore, rising out of the water. His hand is wet.
Liquid drips on his skin. Takumi wonders if he is dreaming when he hears the whispered, "President."
Jerking into a sitting position, his gaze crashes into golden eyes. Misaki stares back, tears plopping from her chin to his hand as she yanks the bandages off.
"Wait, don't do that. Let me call the doctor-" he blurts out, stopping her hands with his.
"President," she croaks out, "What are you doing here?"
"I- uh…," Takumi does not know what to say.
She reaches out to him, heedless of the IV drip in her arm, fingers trembling. "Am I dreaming? Am I dead?" Her touch is icy on his cheek. Instinctively he turns his face into her hand, cradling it with his.
"You're fine, Misaki," he states. "You'll be okay."
At this, her lower lip quivers. "My father is dead." This is not a question.
"Yes," Takumi says, watching her face crumple. His heart aches for her, but he cannot lie to her. Her relationship with her father was complicated, but Takumi cannot even imagine what Misaki must be going through right now,
He holds her as she breaks down, her shoulders shuddering with the force of her sobs. She clings to him, tears soaking his shirt as she weeps. All he can do is stroke her hair and tell her everything will be okay.
Minutes pass, or maybe hours, he doesn't know. In his jet-lagged, sleep-deprived state, Misaki keeps him going. The storm eventually passes and her sobs quiet down. He pours her a glass of water and hands her a tissue.
Wearily, she asks again, "Why are you here?"
"I...," Takumi can't stop himself from pushing the stray locks of hair behind her ear. "I had to come. Tora called me and… It was you, Misa."
She lowers her gaze, nodding. "I see. Tora made you come."
"What? No," he insists, tipping her chin up. "Look, I'm in the middle of my first semester at a high school half a world away. Nothing would have made me come back except you."
"Are you trying to tell me something, President?" she whispers, a hint of the Queen in her tone.
He leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Figure it out, Ayuzawa," he mutters, his ears on fire. If he thinks about how close he came to losing her… Three people died in that crash, and only Misaki walked away.
Her arms go around him and hug him with a surprising strength. He returns her embrace, cradling her until she falls asleep on his shoulder.
When he is sure she is unconscious, he lays her on the pillows, brushing the tears from her cheeks. Even now, his chest twists at the sight of her. Her fingers still grip his shirt. He has to pry them open to release himself.
Stretching, he gets up, only to find Shinoda at the door, glaring daggers at him. "A word, if you please, President Usui?"
Takumi sighs, following him out the door. The hallways are quiet; it is past ten, the wall clock tells him, and the suites on this floor cater to the rich and famous. They turn a corner to a dead end, and the man whirls to face him.
Shinoda stares down at him, his face a blank mask. "President Usui, you must leave."
"Tora flew me all the way here, for Misa," Takumi tells him, crossing his arms stubbornly.
"And now Lady Genji is awake. Your work here is done," the valet enunciates. "You can sleep one more night here, and I shall have the plane readied to bring you back."
"I'm not done yet here," Takumi argues.
The valet closes his eyes, as if praying for patience. Then he opens them again. "You are a scholarship student at a prestigious boarding school. You cannot afford to take so much time off."
Takumi knows this, but being reminded by the valet irritates him further. "That is none of your business, Shinoda."
"Neither is this matter," the older man shoots back. "Lady Genji is none of yours."
"Shinoda!" Takumi and the valet both turn to see Tora standing at the edge of the hallway, clad in black.
The valet bows stiffly. "Master Tora. We should head back upstairs."
"Tora, Misaki woke up tonight," Takumi interjects over the valet's statement, earning him a glare. "I'm afraid she knows about her father."
Tora massages his temples, looking much older than his seventeen years. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Takumi. I just checked in to see her. She's resting right now. Did she cry?"
Takumi nods. An awkward silence descends.
"What were you telling Takumi, Shinoda?" The blond boy demands, now focusing his attention on the valet.
"Master Tora, it is for your own good. Lady Genji…," the older man mutters, the only sign of his discomfort the frown between his eyebrows. "She is to be your wife. It is for your future as Chairman of the corporation."
Tora stalks towards the older man. Should he intervene, Takumi wonders, or should he just leave? It seems as if the blond boy is ready to do violence.
The slap startles him, and happens so quickly that the only sign of it is the red cheek of Shinoda. "Master Tora, I am here to protect your future," he repeats, staring at the younger man.
"You really want me to marry Misaki?" Tora hisses, his hands clenching into fists.
"Hey, now," Takumi interjects, getting ready to jump in if Tora starts throwing punches.
"You bastard," Tora spits out, raking a hand through his perfect hair. "Don't you understand, we're free now?"
"What?" The shock on Shinoda's face reflects what Takumi is feeling.
"If I become the chairman, I'm going to do it on my own merit, on my own terms. Not because I married Misaki Ayuzawa Genji," Tora growls. "Because I am Tora Igarashi. As for my future…" He yanks the other man's necktie, pulling his head down. "You are my future, you idiot. I love Misa like my sister, but you are… You're it for me."
At this, Takumi beats a hasty retreat, leaving them their privacy. He ducks into Misa's room again, closing the door behind him. Does this mean Misaki is now free? Takumi feels a loosening in his chest, and he gulps in deep lungsful of air, still in shock.
She sighs, turning over in her sleep. Drawn like a moth to a flame, he finds himself at her bedside again, his fingers reaching out to touch her.
"It's been a long day, hasn't it?" he murmurs, stroking her cheek with a knuckle. "Sleep well, Misaki. I'll be here when you wake."
.
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In the morning, Takumi is awakened by voices. The doctor and residents surround the bed. Misaki is up, her face expressionless as they examine her. As if she can sense him, her gold eyes snap to his, through the crowd. He gives her a reassuring smile, sitting up.
Her sweater drops to his lap. She must have put it on him while he slept. He clutches it, meeting her gaze again. The ghost of a smile plays around her lips.
The doctor clears her to check out in the afternoon. "Make sure you take painkillers if you need it, Lady Genji," she announces. "I'll work on your discharge papers. And… my sincerest condolences on the loss of your father."
Misaki nods, looking tired again. The doctor nods to Takumi and heads out.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, returning the sweater to her.
She smiles and nods.
.
Fifteen minutes later Takumi finds himself standing in front of the Butler Cafe, looking up at the sign. It wasn't too far from the hospital. Nervous at coming into his old workplace again, he steels his resolve and pushes the door open.
"Welcome to the- Takumi!"
He is engulfed in hugs before he can say anything. Hotaka and Eiji smother him while Satsumi beams from the corner.
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in England?" his former boss demands.
Once he can breathe, he gives them a bow and a sheepish smile. "Um, can I please borrow your kitchen?"
.
Misaki is on her feet, talking to Tora, when Takumi walks in. "President," she greets, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. The two of them talk like they used to, standing close to each other, but even he can tell that things have changed, that there is some distance now.
Tora smiles too, and he is glowing. Takumi heads to the table with the container. "Have some lunch."
"Oh, yay, omurice," Tora quips, sitting at the table. "Can I have half of that?"
Misaki's face goes blank. "No. This is mine." She ignores Tora's pout, shoveling the creamy egg into her mouth.
Takumi has to turn away to hide the blush that creeps across his cheeks at her declaration. She eats in silence, ignoring Tora's stares. The food is gone in minutes. Takumi hands her a bottle of water, which she drains immediately.
"How long are you here?" Misaki asks, once she is done.
"Well," Takumi crosses his arms. It's a fair question, and one that he thought about on his way back from the butler cafe. "I've got until this weekend to fly back in time for class on Monday, but seeing as you're awake and safe, I should probably fly back sooner. Shinoda was correct, I'm a scholarship student and I shouldn't take too much time off so soon."
"The plane is at your disposal, of course," Tora drawls. "Thank you for coming out here."
"I see," is all Misaki says, rising to her feet. "Tora, may I speak with the President alone?"
The blond boy laughs. "Of course. I'll go get your discharge processed, Misa. See ya, Prez."
"I'm not the president of Seika anymore," Takumi protests weakly. "I'm just Takumi Usui now." Tora waves as he exits the room.
Misaki stands before him, averting her gaze. She bows deeply, her hair obscuring her face. "Thank you," she tells him, "For coming back. And thank you for the meal. I thought I would never be able to have this again. It was wonderful."
"Stand up," Takumi laughs, pulling her up by the shoulders. "It's alright."
Golden eyes peer into his. "President, are you still in love with me?" Point-blank as always.
"Are you?" he shoots back, watching her step closer to him. Her head tilts back so she can meet his gaze. The shadows under her eyes are new, he notes, but her skin is still creamy. He holds his hands behind his back to stop himself from touching her.
She gives him a lopsided grin. "What would you do if I was?"
"I'd say you were crazy," he snorts, running a fingertip over her eyebrows. "Or foolish. I'm a broke scholarship student who goes to school halfway around the world, from a no-name family. And you… you're Misaki. You are way out of my league, Queen."
"I'm just a girl, President," she murmurs, a new, cynical note in her voice. "An orphan now, too."
"Misaki…," he begins, not quite sure how to comfort her.
"I'm not some pretty doll that people want to place on a pedestal," she scowls, stepping back. "If you think I'm like that, then maybe you have the wrong idea. I'm not some idealized princess, President. I'm my own person, which I made clear to my dad when I cancelled the wedding." Her back rigid, she crosses the room to start packing her things. "I don't need to be protected or wrapped up. I can take care of myself."
"I know," he tries again.
"Do you?" She turns her fierce gaze on him. "I didn't break the engagement for you, Takumi."
"I know, Misa. You did it for you," he replies simply, pulling her into his arms. She goes without a fight, clutching at his shoulders. Her scent fills his senses, and he holds her tighter, trying to imprint her on his skin. "And I'm so proud of you, of how you saved yourself."
Her fingers curl into fists around his lapels. "But now he's dead."
"That's not on you," Takumi protests. "It is not your fault." He closes his eyes, burying his nose in her hair. She holds him back, just as tightly.
"What are you going to do now?" he asks, releasing her.
She shakes her head, looking lost for a moment. "I have no idea. I don't have any family left on either side. My father may have appointed a guardian for me. It's strange. I've been living by myself for the past two years, and now…," Misaki's brows knit. "I don't know what's going to happen."
"Can you wait for me?" Takumi asks. "I'm pretty useless right now. We're only teenagers, after all. In a couple of years, we'll be adults, and I'll be your family then." Heat creeps up his ears at this embarrassing declaration, but Takumi doesn't take it back.
Misaki looks at him again, a smile hovering around her lips. "Is that a proposal, President?"
Now it is his turn to avert his gaze. "I'll work hard to be a man worthy of standing beside you, Misaki. Will you wait for me?"
In response, she grabs her grey sweater, yanking out the drawstring of the hood. He watches, confused, as she wraps it around his wrist and knots it. "I will. Don't forget your promise, okay?"
He smiles. "I won't." Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to her lips.
She kisses him back, twining her arms around his neck. "And I'll work hard too," she tells him, "So hurry up."
.
Takumi checks out of the hotel, taking one extra day to spend with his family. He brings his mother home to dinner, and for the first time in longer than he can remember, the Usui family sits down to a meal together. After supper, they watch the news coverage of the Prime Minister's funeral. A black-clad Misa standsnext to the state photo of her father, as the world watches. His heart twists.
His mother, understanding, pats his back. "Are you going to see her again before your flight in the morning?"
"Probably not. She must be too busy," Takumi murmurs. "And she is probably exhausted."
Later that night, though, unable to help himself, he calls her before he falls asleep. She answers on the first ring. They talk for hours, until the sky changes colours.
At long last, she falls silent. He hears her even breathing, and realizes she must have fallen asleep.
He listens to her breathe, watching the sunrise. "I love you," he whispers, careful not to wake her.
.
Three hours later, he is on a plane bound for London.
...