Much love to diaaan for the review! And thanks for the favs and follows!

Following the footsteps of some, I've opened a tumblr blog. For writing updates, side-infos on Akemi and other OCs, and whatnot, please do check it out! I'll be posting images and music relating to previous and upcoming chapters. My tumblr url is on my profile. But if need be, just type in 'suzumehime02' in tumblr's search box.

Next day

Everyone – except the Trickster whose whereabouts during this time of day remained a mystery even with a sprained ankle – arrived at the deserted entrance hall around the same time. Habit had them out of bed and onto the road for the daily grind despite morning practice (and afternoon club activity) was cancelled as a reward from Yukimura.

"You're living on your own, Akemi-san?"

Rarely did the dignified Rikkai Captain wear a look of surprise on his fair face.

In this case however, it was understandable, after a suitably furious Sanada revealed the secret she'd been keeping from them. Her parents were currently in Switzerland for a friend's wedding and a symposium her father's attending at the University of Zurich as guest lecturer, and they'd be away for three whole weeks.

Though they now understood the reason behind yesterday's inattentiveness, it didn't mean they were impressed with one matter of urgency.

"What are you going to eat for three weeks!?" Marui gasped in horror, gripping the sides of his face.

Well, maybe not that one.

"I think the important issue here is her safety," Jackal wearily amended, "Try thinking along the line of getting burgled for starters."

"Senpai has a dog right?" Kirihara piped up.

"Considering she's at school most of the days, both her pets are currently under my family's care," Sanada explained tersely, still peeved with his neighbour. He nearly fell over in shock to find them sound asleep on the tatami mats of his bedroom last night. "Strictly speaking, she's home alone."

Mentally exhausted from the long lecture Sanada churned out during their walk, she's frankly had enough of defending herself. Venting a sigh, Akemi slammed the door of her shoe locker shut and turned on her heels.

"Stop making a huge fuss over it," Akemi beseeched exasperatedly, hands on hips. "What am I five? I do know self-defence. Plus my father installed a lot of security gimmicks before leaving the country."

"Anything can happen even to those who are well prepared," Yanagi countered evenly.

A few murmurs of agreement arose.

Deep breath.

"Think about it, my parents won't agree to this kind of arrangement if they can't trust their own daughter to take care of herself," the noirette paused abruptly, looking as though she wanted to say something but held it back. Only three particular individuals noticed it. "Anyway, the way things are now, neither you nor I can alter the situation," she stubbornly maintained.

"But still..." Kirihara murmured, evidently worried.

Sighing, Akemi scratched the non-existent bothersome itch on her neck. "Guys, I appreciate your concerns. But honestly, I'll be fine. If it'll make you feel better, I permit intrusive and annoying texts every hour to check on me," she said very briskly (hoping none of them caught on), pausing to regard them imploringly. "And please, keep these to yourselves. If words got out, you'll put me in graver danger."

The stark reality of the last statement ended the conversation, albeit reluctantly.

After everyone had their indoor shoes on, they headed up the stairs for their classrooms.

Loitering behind the bulk of the regulars, Akemi pondered deeply. Her mind drifted on and off their conversations until the topic averted to the upcoming big party.

Her heart clenched uneasily.

XXX

Outside the window beside her favourite spot in the library, wisps of white clouds hovered high above the school's gardens, rolling across the azure abyss in a relaxed and unhurried manner.

Quite a contrast to girl fretting over the blank pages of the notebook opened in front of her. Black dots decorated the bottom corner with each tap of the nib of her ballpoint pen, as she brainstormed ideas for a gift suitable for the sophisticated Atobe.

Admittedly (given her history), she's terribly inexperienced in finding a gift for a guy. It shouldn't be such a hassle though. After all, it was so easy with the Junior Ace whose birthday was just a few days ago. Granted, she asked him to pick his own gift from the game shop.

Akemi decided she'd put greater effort on Atobe's gift. That meant no shortcuts – chiefly asking the regulars from Rikkai and Hyotei.

She couldn't fathom why.

But it simply felt right doing it this way.

Eyes flickered to the history books stacked beside her elbow. They wouldn't be there if she hadn't been caught daydreaming (in fact pondering on the gift) by the history teacher during his class. Any day – any day, Akemi would take standing outside the classroom than reading up for tomorrow's lesson as punishment.

She tore her eyes away from the aggravating sight to the notebook. Twirling the pen between her fingers, her scowl deepened.

Wagner? No, he probably owned every single collection on his laptop, right down to the music sheet.

Cologne? Akemi hadn't a clue what brand he used to begin with.

Books? She's certain his manor's library contained more books than Rikkai's put together.

"Senpai?"

The noirette jumped slightly in her seat and snapped her eyes up, blinking owlishly at the equally befuddled underclassman sitting across the table beside the lazily lounging redhead. As the initial shock subsided, she glanced from one to the other before dropping her gaze to her watch.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Hours had lapsed since spending the better of her free period unsuccessfully coming up with anything. Presently, she's supposed to be helping Kirihara out with his recent English homework.

Had she been in a daze for the whole day?

Judging by the look on their faces, she had.

"Sorry," Akemi chuckled apologetically, cautious of keeping her voice low. She hastily shut the notebook, pushed it aside and grabbed a red pen. "Here, let me have a look." One hand motioned for his rough work.

"So, Akemi-chan," Marui's voice drifted to her ears after a few moments of silence.

"Hmm?" she replied distractedly, trying to make sense of Kirihara's handwriting. Goodness, that boy sure needed a lot of practice.

"You're coming to the party right?"

"Huh?"

"Atobe's birthday party this coming Saturday."

The scratching noise made by the friction between pen and paper abruptly died. Head bowed over Kirihara's assignment, the dark curtain of hair hid the emotions flickering across her eyes. It lasted for a fraction of second.

Akemi reluctantly resumed correcting the spelling mistakes littered all over the paper, the faint noise of her pen filling the silence again. "I'm still thinking about it," she muttered, her voice neutral.

Marui looked taken aback by her frank reply. "Eh? It's a party!" He leaned over the table, eyes burning hungrily. "Not just a party, but Atobe's! Think of all the food on the table – and cakes!" His mouth watered at the thought of savouring the lavish food. "What is there to think? Also, everyone's going. We want to introduce our manageress to other schools!"

The manageress frowned in obvious displeasure. "Maybe next time, I have to revise." That sounded reasonable. Next Thursday marked the beginning of this semester's exams.

"But senpai, you haven't touched those books at all," Kirihara gestured at the very same pile of history books untouched since his senpai laid them out on the table at the start of the tutoring session. She said something about reading them, but no sooner had they sat down, the books were quickly forgotten.

And just as hastily, the freshman regretted opening his mouth when she shot him a withering look.

Several angry marks crisscrossed the paper until its entirety was covered by large crosses.

"Redo," she instructed curtly, prompting a restrained cry of dismay from the seat across as she slid the paper back. Huffing, she sat back with a book in her hands.

But no matter how much she tried, the noirette couldn't maintain the air of indifference for more than a minute. Certainly not when the freshman wore that abandoned puppy look on his face again as he stared helplessly at the glaring red ink decorating his rough work.

'Well, it's better than boring meaningless numbers into my skull,' Akemi sighed resignedly. Book back on the top of the pile, she brought the chair closer and guided the freshman through his work, giving useful tips but not direct answers. She left him to his own devise minutes later and picked up the book.

"Akemi-chan~" the incisive whine penetrated her bubble of concentration.

"I just need time to contemplate it properly."

Marui wasn't satisfied with her reply, but it was better than a straight out no. "Think of it as a break from studies. You'll need it."

"...thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

By the time the bell tolled, signalling the end of another session, it was time to part ways. Marui and Kirihara hurried down the corridor to grab Jackal from the biology lab, shouting something about the arcade and making him pay.

That poor lad...

"Oh, wait a minute," she muttered, halting abruptly in the corridor. 'The arcade...' She gripped her chin pensively for a moment before her features lit up with delight.

The mall!

XXX

"Should have thought of coming to the mall in the first place," Akemi smiled blissfully, pulling out the novel from its shopping bag. "Of course it's easier to find something you need when you're physically there. Though..." The mirth died at her upturned lips "...I ended up buying Yagyuu-san's present instead."

Her forehead made sound contact with the book. She clenched her eyes shut as though the action alone could solve her problems in one go. 'Yagyuu-san's birthday isn't until the 19th. Urgh, this isn't helping at all,' Akemi thought miserably, putting the detective novel away.

Heaving her school bag onto her shoulder, she stood up from the bench and wandered about the busy mall aimlessly, reflecting on the failed mission.

Any feeling of excitement or anticipation fluttering in her stomach died the instant she had set foot on the first store. Apprehension replaced what was left of her wits as she browsed through the many items neatly arranged on their sparkly shelves. She didn't stay for long and scuttled out the place looking extremely flustered, repeating the cycle for an hour until she finally called it quits, and dashed into a bookstore to recover.

Akemi lifted her head and blinked in surprise. She's back in the upmarket section of the mall.

Why?

It's a given she'd never afford anything housed in those luxury stores. Quality's all good, but Atobe would be furious with her for being spendthrift. That and she only brought this week's allowance.

Her feet pattered to a stop.

Akemi hesitated for a moment and eventually drew closer. Behind the pristine glass, a dapper-looking mannequin stood tall and confident regardless if it's garnering attentions. The dark navy bowtie it wore most certainly did for her. 'Such a shame, it looks really nice.' And better on the Hyotei Captain.

She gazed up at the letters adorning the tailor's window.

All clothing articles are handmade using the finest materials.

'Handmade?' She mulled over the word, gripping her chin. 'If I can't get high quality stuff, at least with handmade items, it'll become secondary to effort...'

XXX

From the far distance, Kirihara spotted the familiar figure standing idly in front of a shop window.

"Ah, that's Akemi-senpai." Waving above his head, the freshman eagerly started towards the figure. "Senpai! Sen – mmph!" He was quickly pulled behind a pillar by Marui who had a hand over the freshman's mouth.

"Shh!" The redhead pressed a finger to his own lips.

"What are we hiding here for?" Jackal grumbled lowly as Kirihara was freed.

Marui motioned frantically, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the pillar, his eyes gleaming as though he had stumbled upon something juicy. Jackal and Kirihara shared a look and shrugged.

Three heads poked out from behind the pillar, one above another in reminiscent of a totem pole, and watched their manageress bending down to examine the cuff of the sleeves closely. Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown, she seemed to be weighing her options as though it's a life or death situation.

"Look at the way she's gazing intently at the suit," Marui whispered fervently. "What is she doing?"

"Buying a present for Atobe?" Though Jackal doubted she'd actually buy anything from that expensive store. "It's his birthday on Saturday."

"Precisely! Question is why." Marui withdrew his head and leaned against the column, folding his arms over his chest. The others turned away from the scene, gazing bemusedly at him. "I get the feeling she doesn't want to go to his party when I asked if she's coming with us."

Jackal shrugged. "At least, she has enough decency to buy a present."

"Senpai's not going buy that whole suit, is she?" Kirihara gaped incredulously.

Marui scowled, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. "Just how close are those two?" He shook his furiously. "No – I don't like this at all. She's our manageress, and he's the captain of our rival team. They shouldn't be together."

"Bunta, what are you –"

"Are you three stalking me?" a cold feminine voice frighteningly near spoke.

The three of them cried in surprise, jumping away from the (supposedly) sudden apparition of the person they were spying on not a minute ago.

Arms crossed indignantly, Akemi glowered at the troublesome trio. "Well? Are you?" she pressed.

Unperturbed, Marui stomped up to her. "Akemi-chan, what is Atobe to you?"

Caught off guard by the random question, her anger instantly vanished. "He's a friend. Why?" she cocked her head in puzzlement.

He eyed her suspiciously, taking her words with a pinch of salt. The other two mirrored his looks – though more subtly – as they eventually coaxed the redhead into leaving the mall.

'One of these days, they're going to drive me nuts – if that hasn't happened.' Sighing exasperatedly, she headed in the opposite directions. Her strides purposeful as her revitalised determination.

Studying a particular profile picture on her phone, ideas for the design began to take shape.

XXX

"Thank you and please come again!"

Smiling happily, Akemi tucked the newly bought goods into the safety of her school bag and hastened her steps to find the nearest home centre.

As with earlier, the cheerfulness didn't last long.

She hovered uncertainly in the aisle; the strong scent of wood impeding her thoughts. She lifted two samples from the shelf, glancing between them for a few moments before raising her eyes to the many mind-boggling choices. The colours, textures, hardness – according to the book in the handicraft store, they all mattered significantly.

'I should have bought it,' she sighed dejectedly, shoulders drooping. 'But it costs a lot. I really don't want to use up this week's allowance, if I can help it.'

"In a pickle, miss?" a raspy voice cut through her thoughts.

Akemi turned around to find a man – possibly as old as the elder Sanada – regarding her quizzically. Though she might have seen a look of recognition flashed in his eyes.

"What are you going to make out of those?" he nodded at the samples in her hand.

She snapped out of the stupor. "Ah – a birthday present for a friend. Hopefully, it's something he'll use," she chuckled sheepishly.

A look of comprehension dawned on the aged face. "Friend huh," he eyed her dubiously. "Not a lover?"

"No, we're just friends," Akemi asserted firmly. What's with the questions?

"You're handcrafting a gift for this friend of yours. That speaks more than a thousand words for this old man." He let out a laugh and waved a hand dismissively, "Never mind what I said. Age has turned me senile."

"...please, don't say that," she disagreed awkwardly, scuffing the ground with the heel of her shoe.

Sensing the discomfort, the old man cleared his throat and beamed affably. "So, what kind of guy is he?"

Akemi blinked in surprise at the question; she'd never considered this before. Crossing her arms, she closed her eyes.

In the darkness of her contemplating mind, the image of the (excessively) egotistical Hyotei Captain cackling arrogantly faded into existence. He ran a hand through his dark hair, tilted his head back so that he's literally gazing down at her through dark blue eyes that glinted roguishly. Lips curved into a haughty sneer, "Be awed by the sight of ore-sama's prowess, peasant!"

"Hmm... Ah!" Akemi bumped a fist on her palm and candidly uttered, "A pain in the neck."

The old man guffawed loudly, starling Akemi and the shoppers nearby. He rubbed a tear from his eyes, laugh receding enough to say, "I guess we all have that one special friend."

His words struck a note. The noirette stifled the giggles behind a hand. In her case, that would make more than one.

The old man smiled softly, "He's someone you can rely on then."

Remembering the selfless deeds and the times they shared, Akemi returned the smile. One hand felt the cheek where it was mercilessly pinched during yesterday's festival.

XXX

Tuesday morning

If the vice-captain noticed the unusual giddiness, he feigned ignorance as they walked in comfortable silence as per usual of their morning trek. Although this time, their destination laid a little further down the road.

"Sorry for dragging you out so early," Akemi apologised, tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind an ear. "I promised to drop by in the morning since I won't have the time afterschool, what with tutoring Kirihara-kun and club activity. Oh, can you keep this from everyone?"

"It's fine. Your secret is safe with me," Sanada promised. Despite uncertain what business she had with a frame-maker, he wasn't one to pry unless necessary. "Are you sure the house is fully secured?"

She smiled assuredly; the consequence of waking up earlier than usual for the appointment made the action a struggle. "I trust the issuer (specifically the company) of the keycard." Unlike the vice-captain who was incredibly sceptical of that one thin piece of card could activate the many hidden security devices installed.

Following the directions printed on the business card, they arrived outside the shop. Akemi softly rapped her knuckles on the door as instructed yesterday. Moments later, the door opened with a happy chime of the bell hanging above its frame, revealing a familiar friendly face.

Bowing respectfully, the students greeted the shop's owner, Ooki Isamu, the elderly frame-maker she met yesterday at the home centre.

"I'm glad you got here in one piece." Ooki titled his head towards Sanada. "Is he?"

"No, he's not the one," Akemi briskly replied.

After the brief introduction, the frame-maker led them through the shop to the till where the finished wooden products sat on top of a worn velvet cushion, as though expecting her arrival.

Grinning widely, Akemi picked one up and held it to eye-level.

Smaller than a ¥1 coin, the disc felt smooth under her touch, and – she tested on the blanks – fitted perfectly in the groove. Because it was wasteful to buy an entire board of wood just to saw it up into tiny discs (and the noirette hadn't a clue how), the old man had proposed to make them after helping her choose an appropriate type of wood for her little project.

"Lucky I found bits of walnut left in the workshop." Ooki nodded at the discs between them. "I made four just in case you need practice models."

Still grinning, she glanced to the old man. "With the time constraints, I'm going to give it my all," she pledged resolutely, her eyes twinkling in the daylight filtering through the window beside the till. "No mistakes, if I can help it."

Ooki chuckled heartily, nodding his head as though silently agreeing with himself. From the chest of drawers behind the till, he pulled out a small wooden case and set it on top of the counter, causing the contents inside the case to rattle.

"I remember you said you're planning to etch something," the frame-maker said, unlocking the latches and opening the lid. He turned the case around. "That way, you won't have to spend extra penny for the tools. I'll lend them to you, on the condition you return them just the way they are."

"O-of course!" she gasped in delight and bowed deeply, "Thank you so much!" Straightening up, she gestured at the wooden discs. "The price –"

He held up a hand, "I'm giving them to you for free, miss."

"Eh!?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Gift or not, I'm glad to see a youngster engaging in woodworking."

Akemi opened her mouth to protest, but the old man cut her off again.

"Young lady, I started out this business decades ago as a young man who needed to do something for a living," Ooki rasped, wise eyes glancing around the interior of his shop. A bittersweet smile spread across his crinkled features as he took everything in. "Though as time passed and I have a family to call my own, money became frivolous compared to the happiness I can bring to people." He glanced to the girl standing before him. "It'll please this old man if that friend of yours likes your choice of gift. A gift made from the wood carved by my own hands into these," he nodded at the discs, "I assume that's what you desired most at the moment."

Akemi smiled.

"Yes."

XXX

Tuesday afternoon, the tennis courts were in the midst of club activity when Yanagi stumbled upon this curious sight.

"Akemi-san, your fingers..."

After passing the record book to him, the girl in questioned glanced down at her hands. Relatively fresh scratch marks ran along some of her fingers. Akemi hastily hid them behind her skirt.

"Ah, they're just paper cuts."

XXX

Every day that went by, the scars mysteriously increased in numbers around her fingers. She'd repeat the same words every time it cropped up in conversations when she's not evading those regarding Atobe's party.

Of course, it's becoming painfully obvious to the regulars that the manageress' harbouring a dark secret, to the point Kirihara was highly convinced (by Niou) his senpai battled every night with animated paper monsters that were slumbering within the folds of her books from the library.

Little known fact about Akemi; she had been working on Atobe's gift for the past few days and nights, sneaking into the industrial arts workshop during her free periods to use the mounted magnifying glass, which her father luckily had in his so-called 'lab' at home.

Bearing in mind her revision duty, her altered schedules were tightly-packed, causing her to be jittery due to stress and fatigue. Only Sanada knew of her routines assured everyone that she's fine.

Those scars on her fingers?

Although she had a pair of steady hands, etching on an object no bigger than the smallest coin in her purse was mentally demanding since it required so much concentration and caution, though the latter proved futile. The upside was the lesser time she'd need to complete the (deliberately) simple design.

She was lucky the frame-maker took it upon himself to prepare extras when she'd originally asked for two. Even with the aid of a magnifying glass, she botched up her first two attempts while trying to carve the tiny pattern.

Several trial and errors, countless 'oops' and 'ouches' later, the fruits of her labour now sat proudly on top of old magazine pages. The fresh coat of varnish caught the light beaming down from her study lamp as it dried before being mounted into the blanks.

It was late into Friday night.

Leaning back on her chair, Akemi threw her arms up for a stretch and yawned widely. She rested her head on top of her arms crossed over the desk's surface, a small smile on her lips as she picked up the sealed envelope containing the birthday card.

Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by vibrating phone.

'Urgh...I really shouldn't have permitted them to text me. Stupid – stupid me,' she berated herself harshly, grabbing the phone. 'Hourly is fine. But Marui-san spamming my inbox every fifteen minutes is –'

Her train of thoughts abruptly died.

King 22:48

Looking forward to tomorrow?

Without bothering to ask, the Hyotei Captain assumed she's going to his birthday party. Or could this be a test?

Chewing on her bottom lip, Akemi scowled at the message, and then the objects on her desk. Her thumb hovered uncertainly over the glass surface for a dubious moment – pondering...hesitating.

As minutes ticked by, the tranquil silence of the night grew daunting, and her previous jubilant sense of achievement deadened under the current state of trepidation. Before they could engulf her, she hastily typed three letters, hit sent, and buried herself underneath the soft covers of her duvet, while the phone on her desk processed the text delivery.

Akemi 22:54

Yes

XXX

4th October, Saturday

At the house of Atobe...9:26am

The early October sun shone down on the sprawling Atobes' private estate, bathing the courtyard in warm sunshine. A flurry of activities was taking place around the ornate fountain as household staff scurried about in an organised manner for the final preparations of the Young Master's birthday party.

Dressed in his bath robe, the newly turned seventeen year old in question watched the ongoing bustling scene from his bedroom window, his hands running the towel vigorously through his damp hair.

Beat barked before the polite knock on the door sounded.

After given the consent, a maid came in and bowed deeply. "Bochamma, Akemi-sama has arrived."

A look of surprise briefly flashed in those dark blue eyes. His hands faltered slightly in movement but never stopped as he contemplated, frowning deeply.

"Ask her to wait at the parlour."

XXX

Noda Akemi had this strange inane habit of turning up at their rendezvous point either on time or late; rarely – if ever – early. Of course that might attribute to the fact he'd never allow a lady to wait. So for her to appear at his doorsteps three hours before the party, Atobe had a hunch something's terribly amiss.

And when he entered the parlour expecting the message to be a hoax, nothing stirred.

The silence filling the room was occasionally interrupted by the ticking grandfather clock standing beside the large fireplace, the twittering birds outside the windows as though singing a birthday song for him, and the soft breathing of the girl slouched against the sofa's armrest...

...fast asleep.

As the back of the sofa faced the windows, much of her features were hidden in the shadows cast by the light filtering into the parlour. The relaxed posture contrasted greatly with her hands, which were clutching three items – a tiny gift box, a card, and a large plastic container – sat on her lap in a possessive manner. Oblivious to tea on the coffee table growing cold, and the soft footsteps and paws falling on the luscious carpet, she slumbered on.

Nights labouring over the gift finally caught up.

A familiar musky scent tickled her nose, and like an automatic reaction, roused her awake.

The first sight that met her eyes was Beat peering curiously at her from behind a pair of legs.

Groggily, Akemi blinked away the remnants of sleep, lifting her gaze to his master standing tall and proud behind the coffee table.

If she didn't know better, she could have easily mistaken him for a bridegroom. His crisp suit wasn't entirely made up of pure white garments. The waistcoat, tie and folded napkin peeking out from the breast pocket were royal blue. Adding a nice finishing touch to his attire, a lapel pin with two silver chains attached between an ornate crown and a diamond encrusted clutch glinted magnificently.

Heaving her back off, Akemi flicked a glance at the grandfather clock. About sixteen minutes had slipped by since the last time she checked the time. 'Oh dear, I must have fallen asleep. The sofa's just so comfortable that I couldn't help it.'

She shuffled to her feet and walked around the coffee table. "Keigo-san, I'm sorry for not informing you before I left home." Slapping on a radiant smile, she held out the gifts. "Happy birthday!"

Akemi was painfully aware that Atobe had crossed his arms. If that was not a huge blow, his hands...he deliberately tucked them away. His overt refusal sent a dagger through her heart. Still, she stood her ground, even though her smile wavered under the intensity of his cold gaze.

In an attempt to remind him of her purpose, she pushed the items further out. "I made banana cake too. Is your father around? I want to thank...him...for..." She trailed off in the midst of her rattling, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, and averted her gaze.

"Why?"

His voice, deep and measured, penetrated the heavy silence.

Why did you lie?

Perhaps in the eyes of Atobe Keigo, she really was awful in the arts of deception. Or the clothes (a cardigan slightly too big for her size covering a plain blue dress) she wore were too casual for the party, which he had specified a dress code for, probably gave everything away.

"Why?" he repeated, reducing the gap between them.

Akemi glanced at him and found herself rooted to the spot by his dark blue eyes.

"...I..."

Deep breath.

"...I-I...am..."

She gulped with difficulty and took a deep breath.

"I'mhavingmyperiod."

Atobe stiffened abruptly in his tracks, eyes wide with shock. Did he just hear?

Before he was given more benefits of doubt, she leaped into a full-blown and logical explanation on her reason for declining his party invitation, lamenting on the woes of a pubescent maiden, the agony gripping her abdomen, and the seemingly endless days of pure torture.

Her lips flapped incessantly and rapidly like someone had turned on the fast-forward mode, as she continued her long-winded (rather graphic) recount much to the horror of the Hyotei Captain, whose face couldn't decide whether ghostly pale or bright red suited his current attire.

Too. Much. Information.

"ENOUGH!" Atobe shouted over her nattering, effectively silencing her. Catching his breath, he simmered down rather quickly. "J-just sit down." One hand covering his face, he grasped her shoulder with his other hand and forcefully pushed her back down the sofa. "Someone get her another cup of tea!"

The two maids, who were suppressing their mirth in the distant sidelines, scurried out from the parlour with the silver trays and closed the door behind them.

Once alone, Atobe plopped down beside her and vented a long sigh. His usual composure snapped back in an instant, surprising her.

"Ore-sama uphold what's been said." Dark blue eyes glared straight into her brown ones. "You're a terrible liar."

Smirking in amusement, he watched as confusion – then comprehension – slowly dawned on the noirette.

"Y-y-y-you were just p-pretending!" Akemi stuttered, blushing furiously. Because she needed a credible reason, she (recklessly) placed a huge gamble on detailing her own experience. "Y-you made me go through that a-act!"

Atobe scoffed audaciously. "Well, ore-sama can't deny what slipped through your tongue was revolting," he sneered triumphantly as though he'd won a non-existing battle, eyes glinting mischievously. "Though thanks to you, ore-sama gets an advanced warning when you hit that stage."

If it's possible, Akemi reddened even further until steam emitted from her ears. Her eyebrows twitched madly as she pathetically attempted a murderous glare.

Folding his arms behind his head, he laid back on the crook of the sofa, lounging in a luxurious manner. Beat came around and placed his head on the cushion, silently pleading. The giant hairy beast received his wish, wagging his tail happily as Atobe scratched one of his ears.

When she'd calmed down, Akemi withdrew to the opposite side of the sofa, eyeing him suspiciously.

The maids returned with a set of tea for two. By the Young Master's order, they cut up the banana cake (Atobe deftly plucked away the container), enough for him and the guest before leaving with the other half for his parents.

"You're...not going to ask me why again?" Akemi prodded cautiously, breaking the short-lived awkward silence.

He rolled his eyes and snorted. "It's so obvious to ore-sama, it's tiresome. You're uncomfortable with the idea of a party."

Stunned, Akemi stared at him in complete bafflement as he casually drank the tea. Just how much could he read into her? She finally tore her eyes away and coyly dropped her gaze to her lap, abashed.

"The point of a party –," Atobe continued, "– is that guests enjoy themselves and leave feeling happy." He glanced over the brim of his teacup at the crestfallen figure. "As a host and an Atobe, even if a single person doesn't feel that way, ore-sama will be extremely discontent." Worst case scenario: A laughingstock. "If you're coming unwillingly, then it's meaningless."

Finally, she lifted her gaze.

"So – it's fine if I don't?"

A look of exasperation crossed his face. "Is there a limit to your naivety? You're here, aren't you?"

"Umm...yes?"

"Might as well keep ore-sama company until the party starts. Ore-sama's not going to waste the time and effort dressed up for nothing."

Her lips stretched widely into a smile.

"I guess you're right in that sense," Akemi chuckled sheepishly, falling back at ease surprisingly quickly. She left the temporary hidey-hole and proffered the gifts. "Happy birthday, Keigo-san," she smiled a genuine smile.

And it grew until she was grinning toothily.

She sat back, her hands now emptied. "Ah! Open it when I'm gone, please," Akemi hastily entreated when he was about to lift the lid of the black gift box.

Atobe raised a quizzical eyebrow. He deliberated for a few moments, then clicking his tongue irritably, placed the card and gift box on the coffee table. "Here," he handed her a plate of cakes.

"Thank you," she beamed happily. Akemi picked up a slice with the fork and –

"Hold up." He caught her wrist just as she was about to open her mouth. "You're feeding ore-sama."

"Huh!?" she exclaimed incredulously. Shaking her wrist free, she added heatedly, "Do you hear yourself when you speak?"

Unperturbed, he waggled a finger before her face, sneering deviously. "Rule of thumb, birthday boy gets whatever he wants today. Isn't that right?"

No amount of glaring daggers at that obnoxious, toffee-nosed, vainglorious –

Akemi could go on adding several lovely names to the exponentially growing list...and yet she...carefully held the uneaten cake towards him.

Atobe closed his eyes and deliberately took his time in chewing. "Hmm...mmm...tasteless."

Eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Didn't you say if one person isn't feeling happy, you basically fail as a host?" she asked in a deadpan manner; the grip around the utensil tightened in an iron-grip. "Strangely though, I feel like impaling you with the fork."

"That's only valid during the party," Atobe countered smoothly, gesturing to his lips.

Akemi reluctantly fed him another slice. She was starting to suspect his offhanded comment. Whenever he ate the offered cake, the hand resting on Beat's head would move, causing the hairy beast to wag his tail happily in response.

"How are you coping living on your own?" Atobe suddenly asked her, catching her off guard.

She stared at him in perplexity for a dubious moment. Then, it hit her.

"Right, why should I be surprised?" Akemi sighed resignedly, picking a large slice for birthday boy. "Your father sent all those security devices to my dad." Reflecting on the moment Atobe pinched her cheeks sore, he was (presumably) only informed of her parents' leave after the school festival ended. Specifically when, she didn't know. "Can you convey my thanks? I want to do it personally, but I suppose he is a busy man."

"Ah."

She smiled gratefully, and added, "Oh, and FYI, I'm coping just fine."

No lies there.

"Well, if you're ever running out of money or feeling a little weepy over the lack of company," Smirking, Atobe nipped a small chunk from the plate in her grasp and lifted it to her lips, "Ore-sama's only one button away." He gave her a 'thou-shouldst-be-grateful' look.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever on the brink of insanity," she retorted dryly, taking the offered piece, and threw it into her mouth. "Like that will ever happen."

XXX

An hour or so flew by; crumbs littered the otherwise empty plates, the teapot drained down to its last dregs.

They talked...exchanged banters, but occasionally lapsed into comfortable silence, in which each of them pondered in the depths of their mind.

Leaning back in the cosy sofa, Akemi flitted back and forth the doorsteps of slumber; the wave of exhaustion threatening to imprison her once more.

Brown eyes furtively glanced over to the figure sitting poised beside her.

Oblivious to the gaze, he combed the inbox of his phone swamped with birthday messages for ones that mattered importantly. His face was half-hidden in the cloak of the ever shifting shadows, serving to accentuate his well-defined and striking features rather than the contrary. As he laughed quietly at something amusing he found, the light falling on one dark blue eye, caused the diaphanous surface to quiver ever so –

Akemi dropped her head into her hands, groaning in dismay. 'Urgh, I'm so tired.'

Startled, Atobe looked up from his phone in puzzlement. One eyebrow arched, he set his phone aside, removed her hands from her face, and studied the scars on her fingers closely with an irate scowl.

All the noirette registered at the moment was the warmness of the hands grasping hers (something about her cheeks weren't feeling right?) until his voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"What have you been doing?" Atobe demanded hotly, glaring at the ugly scars.

"...oh that?"

A flicker of a wily smile tugged at her lips.

"Well..."

XXX

That night after dinner with his parents...

"I trust you'll work it out yourself."

Tsch!

Blast that girl and her silly love for secrecy.

Atobe glared down at the pair of cufflinks resting on his palm. Etched onto each of the wooden surface was an unassuming stylised crown, bordered by a circle (he said circle, but it looked slightly wonky), and a single letter 'K' in the middle of the crown. With such sloppy workmanship, he spent half the time ensuring the cufflinks hadn't fallen off during the party.

Nevertheless, her gift was light-years better than Oshitari's outlandish idea of 'help' (whatever he'd meant).

As though filthy and fetid, he gingerly picked up the CD case between his fingers and made a face at the gaudy typeset printed across the cover of, 'Doki Doki Love Catch!'

Blimey, why would a guy gift another some shoddy dating simulation game, if not to vex him? (So far, he's doing a fine job)

Face contorted with repugnance, Atobe carelessly dropped the vile thing on his writing desk, plopped down on his bed, and gently placed the cufflinks on his bedside table.

The gift from the Rikkai team was large and rather heavy – he realised, when he hoisted it onto his lap. That Rikkai Captain wore an odd expression when he presented it to him. Gripping the edge of the object, he noticed something curious. 'Hmm? Is this a frame?' He felt the sturdy sides.

Shrugging, the Hyotei Captain tore the wrapping papers off...

...and gawked in utter disbelief; eyes the size of platters.

In his hands, he held the very same painting of a princess who bore absolute resemblance to a certain girl.

A card poked out from the lower corner of the frame where it was tucked. Shaking his head vigorously, he plucked it out and read the card.

It was just a birthday greeting, and a postscript note written on the back.

I'm not sure if our manageress told you this, but I thought you will like to know that her birthday falls on the same day as Halloween – Yukimura Seiichi

Blast that girl to oblivion!

Is...Akemi starting to feel differently towards the Hyotei Captain? Atobe's lapel pin which I referred from an official art exists in real life! Coincidence? I've added a picture and link on my tumblr blog. The 'K' on the cufflinks may mean 'King' or 'Keigo'. Or when you put them together, 'King Keigo'.

Thanks for reading and see you next chapter!

Please review?