argenteusvipera: Thanks so much! The Ootori siblings' difficulty with opening up and being involved with each other is directly tied to how close they are to Yoshio. Yuuichi and Kyoya (the heir and the third-born son trying to prove himself) have the hardest time of it, Akito (middle son) is in-between, while Fuyumi never has a problem with it because being the daughter gave her a kind of "freedom" from Yoshio. Kosuke and Kyoya are annoyed at how cold he is, but he doesn't know how else to be.

UglyThunder: Thanks!

CaityJoy: Thanks so much!

Alnitak8: Thank you!

Few would consider writing a research essay a relaxing pastime, Kosuke included. Unless that essay was about food and consumer safety laws, of course.

Chef Matsuhisa announced in class one day that a colleague was launching a new magazine for food fanatics and wanted to feature pieces from culinary students across the country. He was offering the honor of being the first featured author to one of her students. That it was a competition, but for Kosuke that was less of a reason and more of an excuse to do it.

She already gobbled up all things culinary news, so why not try her hand at writing some? She hardly ever did things just for fun these days. And fun it was—though the twins disagreed. They gagged when she told them she was enjoying a research project. Blegh!

She could write a whole book on any topic if she had the time, but her essay idea came to her after hearing a news story about a young boy who had been eating his favorite after-school snack chips when his throat began swelling and his skin began to itch. The chip company had quietly changed its seasoning recipe to include one of the boy's allergies. The boys' parents were pushing for stricter regulation for food companies to make more effort to inform customers of potentially dangerous recipe changes, a push continuously dismissed because the boy's allergy was a rather uncommon one.

Thus began Kosuke's piece on the current state of mass-produced food label laws, which was so downright thrilling that she pumped it out in three days. She spent a fourth sadly chopping down paragraphs. She'd gone five pages over the limit.

Now it's the day before Chef Matsuhisa takes the submissions, and Kosuke plans to do her final tweaks and touches tonight. She can recite it from memory, but who's to say she's not missing a period here or a comma there? When the class ends, her usual trio of peers come around her table to chat. Some are dancing at the thought of being published, while others are grimacing.

"It's just the opening sentence I can't figure out," Benjiro complains to them all. "Everything else I'm proud of—but just that one sentence."

Yoshiko says with a groan, "My mom's been begging me nonstop to read it. But I don't want to get her hopes up if it doesn't get picked."

"Hey." Rika pokes her side. "Don't be so pessimistic."

Benjiro nudges Kosuke with his elbow. "Did you ever get yours cut down enough?"

Yoshiko and Rika both guffaw. "Of course, your problem would be writing too much," the latter quips.

"I didn't!" Kosuke protests (read: lies). "It was the quotes I used, mostly. Some of them were really good but several sentences long, so I had to figure out how to paraphrase them without—Oh, hey, I should get going. Bye."

The reason for her hasty retreat is pouting as she glides, elegant but eager, into the classroom. Blocking the only exit. "You're not hurrying off now, are you? I came all the way here just to check in."

Yoshiko, Rika, and Benjiro chorus their greetings, and Kosuke chews on her tongue like bubblegum. As always, her friends remain drawn to Amaya like mosquitoes to an electric lamp, but Kosuke would be doing the same if she were engaged to anyone but Kyoya. Amaya is still a luminary to put the stars to shame. A nerve-grating, soul-sucking luminary.

"How are you all feeling? Excited?" They affirm, and she claps her hands, delighted. "Wonderful! Oh, I'm sorry, do remind me what everyone's written about, again?"

Benjiro: "The potential expansion of molecular gastronomy into less exclusive restaurants."

Yoshiko: "The average time a chef spends at their different restaurants throughout the year."

Rika: "The psychological intentions behind a dining room layout."

Kosuke: is ignored.

"Those all sound so interesting! You'll let me read them, won't you? I asked Chef Matsuhisa if I could read all the submissions, but she said I'd have to get permission from everyone first."

It's an instant yes from everyone. Amaya Domen, reading their work! Would such a goddess grace these lowly mortals with her attention?

Pass. Kosuke wraps her book bag strap around her shoulder and begins to inch her way towards the door. Maybe if she moves slowly enough, Amaya won't notice her.

"And you, Amaya?" Rika asks. "What did you write about? I know you said you were having a hard time coming up with a topic."

"Oh, thank you for asking! I'm writing about current legal discussions regarding food companies and the labels on their mass-produced items."

She would.

Kosuke's stomach drops like a brick, but, she isn't that surprised. If she and Amaya are ever in the same circle, Amaya will always try to butt her out of it, like they're in a perpetual sumo match. Someone may have told her in some oblivious small talk, or maybe Kosuke had said something herself without realizing Amaya was hiding in the shadows nearby, listening. Kosuke wouldn't put it past Amaya to have coaxed the university librarian into telling her which books Kosuke had checked out.

If she fled to the other side of the globe, would Amaya be happy to get rid of her, or would she try to beat Kosuke there?

To their credit, her friends' awe finally wanes a little. She sees it in how their eyes go to her, and so do Amaya's, still so thrilled.

What are the possible outcomes here?

Amaya will say it's just a coincidence—or perhaps she'll worm into everyone's head that Kosuke stole her idea. Either way, she has started a duel. Chef Matsuhisa may not even accept two essays with the same thesis. It'll be a repeat of the day they met, all their classmates waiting with bated breath to see who comes out on top when Kosuke was just minding her own business and trying to get a damn education.

Of course, Amaya will win. She'll have connections. Maybe she'll have interviewed a famous lawyer specializing in food law because oh, it was such a coincidence, we were in Tokyo at the same time and I saved him from being hit by a bus. He was so grateful he said he'd be at my 'beck and call,' but I was just so relieved that he was okay! Or something. Then she'll bring it up every day for as long as Kosuke knows her, which would be too long even if it only meant until tomorrow.

Unless Kosuke waves the white flag now, that is. She could try to do it silently, but Amaya would somehow weasel out that Kosuke hadn't submitted anything—perhaps when she so eagerly asks to read all her classmates' works. Then she'll make sure everyone knows Kosuke chickened out. It will be a flawless victory.

So it's a choice of which way Kosuke wants to lose.

Unless.

"Hey, Kosuke," says Rika at last, "that's kind of like your essay, isn't it?"

"Hm? Oh, no. That's kind of an idea I was bouncing around for a while, but I decided to go with something else in the end."

Amaya's eyes glitter, intrigued, but none but Kosuke notice. Of course, Benjiro just has to ask, "Oh yeah? What is it?"

Good question.

What did I read? Kosuke's mind fumbles through her memories. What do I remember that I could use for a different essay?

"Defamation cases against food companies."

It's a shot in the dark, but at least the bullet is in her chamber now. Amaya's already shared "her" essay idea—even if she could through some miracle write a new essay by tomorrow, she wouldn't be able to charm her way out of admitting she had copied Kosuke.

Kosuke would gladly take that miracle, however, because writing a new essay by tomorrow is exactly what she's about to do.

Either Amaya can see right through her, or she knows she'll win whether she and Kosuke's pieces are identical or opposite. The smirk she wears as she crosses her arms almost seems satisfied, as though a boring game just got interesting. "Well, that sounds fascinating. I'd love to read that."

After I pull it out from the trash, she means. "We'll see. Speaking of, I'd better get going. I have some...finishing touches to make! Commas. Periods. Things like that. Bye!"

Her friends bid her a good evening, and Amaya bids her good luck.

The second she's out the door, Kosuke whips her phone out and calls for backup. She can do this, but she's going to need help.

The Masses v the Mass-Produced: Courtroom Cases Protecting Consumer Rights by Toshiro Nakayama. Nothing but Five Stars: An In-Depth Look at Recent Libel Cases by Minoru Nozawa, and Who's Feeding You? by Masa Ishibashi. The titles of these books become a mantra in Kosuke's head as she plunders the library shelves. All the other sources she'd used for her original essay can just be repurposed—she'll find a way.

Whether by the sight of fire in her eyes or by understanding the vile nature of her enemy, her project partner does not ask many questions, just one.

He waits until she joins him on his side of the shelf. Kosuke's eyes are so glued to the spines that she nearly collides with him. "What is your timeline to pull this off?"

Without glancing at him, Kosuke pulls a folded paper from her jacket pocket and holds it up for him. In quick but neat pencil strokes, he'll find a schedule down to the very minute. Brainstorming, outlining, first draft. Breaks for water, snacks, and general sanity. Time for putting the children to bed.

"Impressive. Does it really only take you that long to get from your home to the school?"

"If the driver takes the back roads and pushes the speed limit."

"Ah, Toshiro Nakayama. Here he is."

It's off the shelf. Two to go. Kosuke shoos him forward. "Go on the other side!"

She catches glimpses of him between books and pages. After a minute, she starts moving opposite him, looking down when he looks up. He's distracting her.

"What about this one?" Kyoya pulls the book out and reads the title: "A Closer Look at the Grocery Aisle."

"Nah, I've read that twice. No good."

"How many of these books have you read?"

"How do you think I know which ones I'm looking for?"

He hums, amused. It makes Kosuke look at him again—darn it—and her eyes land on a familiar cover, Who's Feeding You? She shoots her hand to the other side and scrambles to grab it for a pathetically long time until finally Kyoya takes pity and hands it to her.

One more, and still a few minutes left on this block of her schedule. It's quiet. Which, duh, it's a library, but she was sure that calling Kyoya for help would mean battling through a lot of discouragement. Not that he would have been wrong to do so. Haven't they talked enough of the importance of a good night's sleep?

Yet his silence is not one of worry. He's following her around peacefully, except when she nearly crashes into someone and he has to steer her away with a hand on her back or a tug on her arm. It makes Kosuke uneasy, for some reason.

"I've got to say, you seem oddly fine with this."

He glances up at her from the spines. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm staying up all night, chugging an ocean of caffeine, probably ruining my eyes staring at pages and screens for hours."

"For something that you want to do, not something that you feel obligated to." Kyoya pauses mid-page-turning. "Given, it's to be vindictive, but I think you're owed your anger. Just don't make a habit out of it."

"Oh, I've learned my lesson. From now on, I won't say anything to anyone, ever, about my life. Just so Amaya won't find out about it."

Kyoya steps back and cranes his head to squint up at the top shelves. "If I've got this organization correct, your last book will be up there." On the far end of the shelves, a student is standing atop the rolling ladder, tapping his finger from book to book. "We'll have to wait a minute."

Kosuke flits her sleeve back and checks her watch. "There's no time. Just make sure I don't hit my head."

She starts climbing the shelves like a kid in a jungle gym, and there goes Kyoya's amusement.

"Kosuke! Stop—you just got your brace off!"

"I'm being careful. Just give me a second." She passes four shelves, and her feet are level with Kyoya's head when she realizes something that makes her cough. "I just remembered I'm wearing a skirt."

"Kosuke. Making sure you don't get a concussion is my priority right now. Not that."

"Right….Right."

She gets the book and descends a little too quickly. From Kyoya's reaction, you'd think she'd fallen a hundred feet instead of just two.

The whole time that the librarian is checking the books out, Kosuke is impatiently tapping her fingers on her thigh. Kyoya picks up Nothing but Five Stars and flips through the pages, feeling the weight of all four hundred-plus of them. "This is the one you haven't read yet? And you plan to read it all tonight?"

"No, just the relevant chapters. I know how to use a table of contents." Kosuke thanks the librarian kindly and speeds out of the library with Kyoya following at a saner pace. "The worst part is just going to be the formatting. So annoying."

"You find whatever you're going to use. I'll take care of the formatting."

Kosuke's pace staggers even though she knows she's falling behind on the schedule. "What? You don't have work tonight?"

"Even if my father were going to call me in, once I explain that I'm with you, he'll allow it."

Initially, Kosuke can't think of any reason why Dictator Yoshio would do such a thing, but ah, right, it's the reason she and Kyoya even met in the first place. DomenMed must have rattled Yoshio to the core if he fears her and Kyoya's engagement will end if Kosuke just loses interest.

Speaking of dictators: "I'll have to call Shigeo for permission." She spits the word out. "You really don't have to do this. I don't have to do this, I just want to."

"I also just want to. Believe me, it's easier to stay awake when someone's there to make coffee."

On the outside, Kosuke just smiles. On the inside, she gets the butterflies in her stomach, the flutter in her heart, all the stupid cliches. Maybe she'll even fill her notebook with lines of Mrs. Kosuke Ootori to bring it home. He's making her kind of pathetic.

She swears she's getting worse, too, like being in love is a disease and she's hitting stage three. He's become a fire, making her skin flush hot when she gets close. Every day they get nearer to…something. Their hands find each other when they're near, touches are lingering longer. Like wine, there's something getting a little richer every day.

Geez. When they actually kiss, is she going to burst into flames?

She puts the thought away. She has to if she wants a chance of pulling this essay off. "If you say so. Why don't you just say you're with me every day? Then you'd never have to go back to work."

"I might as well. I spend all my time with you now anyway."

For all the pumping adrenaline and blazing willpower Kosuke had just an hour ago, the actual battle is quiet. Because, well, it's just typing words and reading paragraphs.

She and Kyoya make camp in the same room where he'd once helped her study. They spread out papers and books and sip from cups of hot tea from opposite sides of the table. Kosuke reads and marks pages with little pink tabs while Kyoya reviews the formatting of the sources she'd had before.

Nothing but Five Stars is fascinating. Too fascinating. Kosuke wants to curl under a blanket with it. For now, she settles for sharing her awe with Kyoya.

"Huh. Kyoya, listen to this. It's a case from a few years ago: After drinking four cans of Rocket Fuel energy drinks to power through a long day of work, Yoshinori Niinami was hospitalized for nearly four days due to a caffeine overdose. Niinami a popular blogger, wrote about his experience online. In his post, he called Rocket Fuel 'dangerous' and said that the warning of caffeine over-consumption on the cans was 'so small and understated, [ReVital Holdings, Ltd.] is clearly trying to trick people into thinking the drink isn't as bad for people as it really is'. Two months following this post, which garnered thousands more views with each passing day, Niinami was sued by ReVital for defamation'."

"Not surprising. I've seen companies sue for much less."

Kosuke sticks a tab into the page to mark it. There's one for each time she babbled to Kyoya. "Ugh, I've got to stop. I'll never get this done if I keep hitting you with excerpts."

"Mark them and you can read them to me later."

"You're sure I'm not boring you with this stuff?"

"Far from it. I find the 17th-century origins of ketchup to be an enthralling subject."

He gets an eraser flicked at him for this.

Dinner is brought to them—and the children, who were allowed to eat on the bed while watching a movie in exchange for leaving Kosuke and Kyoya be. Kosuke brings forkfuls to her mouth as she flips between pages. When she finishes, she takes a glance at her watch, slips in a bookmark, and stands. She starts walking from corner to corner while she stretches out her shoulders.

Kyoya glances up at her from his screen. "Taking a turn about the room?"

"Exercise for the body is as important as exercise for the brain. Plus, it helps with stress." She presses her heels into her lower back and stretches until her vertebrae pop. "Did you know you could risk getting a blood clot if you sit for too long?"

"I feel like that was directed at me."

"You hear what you want to hear."

The next time she goes around the sofa, she lays on the floor. Sit up, hold, down, breathe. Sit up, hold, down, breathe. On the next down, she finds Kyoya above her, leaning against the back of the sofa.

Kosuke doesn't stop, but she does joke, "If you want to help, you can hold my feet down."

She hadn't expected him to actually come around and do it. With his hands on her ankles, she returns to her sit-ups, focusing on her breathing and the ache in her abdomen.

"So," says Kyoya, "if you do this whenever you're stressed—"

"I should have a rippling six-pack, yeah, I get it. Here, come do my shoulders now." He holds them down gently, and she starts on the rotation stretches. Tilt knees, hold, return, tilt. She can hear Fuyumi guiding her. She was a great workout partner, if not too intense for Kosuke's poor muscles to keep up with. "Do you study at all? Have you ever?"

"Is that an insult?"

"Glowing compliment, actually. I'm sure you were every teacher's favorite student."

"Speaking of…All these things that you know, did you really just start picking them up one day?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how do you go from 'burning water' to being a world-class gastronomist?"

"Well, once it was just me and the children, I had a lot of time on my hands and not a lot of ways to spend it. Cooking was pretty much the only thing I liked to do anyway, so I just read whatever I could about it. History books, travel guides, studies, magazines. Recipe books, even. I remember there was one night that Hitsuji wanted a bedtime story but didn't like any of the books we had, so I just read him roast beef recipes until he was knocked out."

"Impressive."

She shifts to her knee-to-chest stretches. Pull, hold, repeat. She repeats until curiosity gets the best of her. "Is it?"

"Hm?"

"Ugh, this isn't working. Here, help me push my leg."

It takes him a minute to get it, but they get back on rhythm. On each pull of her knee to her chest, he pushes his hand into the back of her knee, making the stretch a bit tighter.

"I mean is it actually impressive, or are you just saying that?"

"And where is this coming from?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm annoying people when I start rambling about things."

"No, not at all. Is it annoying whenever I talk about my work?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say—No, no! Come on." Kyoya pulls back and glares down at her. "I'm teasing. Come on."

They resume their stretching and pushing. "Thank you for thinking I'm a world-class gastronomist."

"Don't let it get to your head." Kyoya ponders for a moment. "I like it when you talk about food."

"You do?"

"It's…cute."

"Cute. Mm...That sounds patronizing."

"I mean it. You light up. It's very endearing."

"Ooh, I'll take endearing. Now tell me you think it's hot."

He shakes his head at her. "It's attractive."

She puts on a preening little smirk for him, and with an exhale of a laugh, he adds, "Very attractive."

He's still teasing—but there's a shift in his voice like he's not really teasing, and now Kosuke really does feel like preening. Then, the next time their eyes meet, there's a shift there, too. A little heavier. A little headier. That same slow build to something that keeps coming unpredictably in their time together.

Suddenly Kosuke becomes aware of two things at the same time. One, that the two have been quiet and looking at each other for some time now. Two, that this position they're in—her lying down on her back, him helping her press her knee into her chest, body just slightly hovering over hers—is far, far more intimate than she'd meant it to be.

Her phone starts to ring, ring, ring, and they both jump, Kosuke's leg shoots straight, heel grazing against Kyoya's shoulder, and he grunts, she apologizes, and he's still rubbing his shoulder when she turns the alarm off.

"Time to go to bed. THE KIDS, I mean. It's time to get the kids ready for bed."

Kyoya rolls his shoulder to make sure it's still in the socket, then gives her a curious (if not pained) look. "They still need your help with their bedtime routine?"

"Just a little. It's not like I brush their teeth for them. Just sit tight. I'll be back in a bit."

"Can I help?"

At first, she assumes it's just to shave down time spent away from their work, but then her brain starts functioning again and she realizes he really just wants to help out with her siblings. Though she's personally stuck on the can part of the request, Kosuke nods and beckons him to follow her.

The children brush and floss their teeth and change into their pajamas. They lay out their school uniforms for the next day. Both of them sit down, Minami in front of Kosuke and Hitsuji in front of Kyoya, to tend to their hair. Kosuke shows Kyoya how to run the detangler through their curls, avoiding the scalp, not too much to look greasy. Hitsuji's hair is not nearly as long nor as curly as his sister's, but Kyoya still runs a comb through the locks with great care, like snagging on one knot will be like pulling the pin on a grenade.

Curious, Kyoya asks Hitsuji, "Am I doing this right?"

Ever honest, Hitsuji shrugs.

"You're doing fine." Years and years of experience let Kosuke finish in just a few minutes. She pulls Minami's hair into her bonnet and ties the ribbon with a flourish. "Alright, missy. My turn."

Minami perches on the edge of her bed while Kosuke sits between her knees, and for a second Kyoya looks sideways at them, as if Kosuke has been hiding wild curls underneath nightly treatment. But Minami just takes the comb and runs it through Kosuke's hair, slow and languid, like she's molding clay. Kosuke doesn't need it, but it's tradition. They take turns.

With a quick look over his work, Kyoya says, "I think that's it."

Hitsuji tilts his head back and looks upside-down at him. "Can I do yours?"

Kyoya—sweet Kyoya, how did Kosuke ever think he was scary?—swaps places with him and takes off his glasses so they don't get caught. And goodness is he lucky that his hair is short and straight because Hitsuji goes at it like a weed-whacker.

The children crawl under their blankets, and Kosuke pulls up a chair and takes out a novel: Arula and the Secret Well. She flips open to the bookmarked chapter and begins. "The inside of Snapdragon's bakery was wild. Pots and pans were stacked to the ceiling. The fire in the ovens was so hot, the flames licked out from their doors."

"Hey," Minami stops her. "Can Kyoya read to us tonight?"

It doesn't sound like his cup of tea, to say the least, but when Kosuke turns Kyoya already has his hand extended for the book. She shrugs and passes it over. "All yours."

Kyoya clears his throat and tracks the words with his fingertip. "Snapdragon led Arula deeper within, until they came into a room filled with pixies, zipping this way and that between cakes and cookies. With their tiny hands, they frosted flowers and iced pearls. They lifted them one by one into ribboned boxes set up on the windowsill. Once it was closed, an owl swept down, took the box in its talons, and took it back to the air again. 'This is it,' said Snapdragon. 'This is where I bake all my—'"

Suddenly Hitsuji piped up, "No. Let Kosuke do it."

"Yeah, I changed my mind," echoed Minami. "You do it, Kosuke."

So she takes the book back, and Kyoya confusedly asks, "What did I do wrong?"

Both children answer, "You're not doing voices."

"Voices?"

"Snapdragon's really…stuffy," Kosuke explains. "Nice, but really proud of herself. Here, listen." She clears her throat and speaks in the most posh accent she can muster. "'This is where I bake all of my amazing goods. You can wander until east turns into west, and you'll never find another bakery like it!'"

"See?" Minami pats the bed. "C'mon."

The three of them make for a rapt audience for the rest of the chapter, and though Kyoya smirks when she puts on the gravelly timber of the old wizard Bitterbark, or the flute-like whispers of the shy librarian Novelle, Kosuke's too high on the pride of showing him up to get embarrassed.

At the chapter's end, Kosuke marks the page and pulls the blankets over Hitsuji, Kyoya does the same for Minami. The children give sleepy good-nights as Kosuke gently shuts their bedroom door. She wishes she had done this when they were still at home. Make that Item #2957 on the list of things she regrets.

While Kosuke and Kyoya walk back to camp, he asks, "Do you do that every night?"

"Only if they're not already asleep. Did you have bedtime stories read to you when you were a kid?"

"For a minute, until I started reading them for myself."

"Right, you came out of the womb with a Nobel prize. How do I keep forgetting?" Kosuke plops back down on the sofa, picks up her laptop again, cracks her knuckles, and rolls her neck. "M'kay. Rought draft, here we go."

She doesn't keep track of how long she writes, worried that a glance at the clock will throw her off track. All she knows is that her fingers do not stop clicking away at the keys until there are five full pages and her fingers are aching at the joints. Meanwhile, Kyoya never lifts his eyes up from his share.

Once the last period is on the page, Kosuke shuts her laptop and sighs. "And now I step away to come back to it with fresh eyes."

"Maybe you should take a power nap."

"Not yet. But I can't do anything that requires concentration, either. So."

She pulls her earphones from her bookbag and plugs them into her phone. Once she hears the first few notes of splashy drums and twinkling piano keys, she stretches out on the sofa. Maybe she can meditate while listening to pop music.

Kyoya reaches over and tilts her phone screen towards him. "The Sugar Plum Pixies. That's the one your mother liked, isn't it?"

"Yep. It's old-school, but still pretty catchy. Want to listen?"

She leans back and he leans forward so they can take one earphone each, connected by the chorus of bubbly voices sweetly singing to their crush about how much they want to paint his cheeks red with their lipstick. It's sugary sweet, but it has Kosuke's foot bopping to the rhythm.

When the next song starts, Kyoya removes his earphone and asks, "Can I ask you something?"

She pauses to give her full attention. "What is it?"

"I know the children will be living with us after we're married, but do you think they will actually like it?"

They had discussed it a few times. The hesitation to take in the children Kyoya had shown at the Halloween Festival had changed to certainty even before he'd learned everything about Shigeo. They were still a ways off and still had some details to figure out, but she'd just assumed that those details would be bedroom arrangements and morning routines and how they were going to get to school. Maybe a bathroom schedule.

"What do you mean?"

"I know I didn't see much of it, but you told me how difficult it was for them to be here and how it just doesn't feel like home. I'm sure it still doesn't, but they seem used to it now. Do you think they're going to like everything changing again?"

Away from here?! OF COURSE THEY WILL.

No, she won't dismiss his concern so immediately. Kosuke shifts on the sofa to face him better. "Whatever trouble they're going to have is going to be made up for by how they'll feel welcomed and safe there. With actual family, and no strangers watching them. Trust me, Kyoya. They won't miss this place."

"I know that. I just want them to be comfortable even if you're not there."

Now Kosuke can't help but snort. "Ah, Kyoya. So oblivious. It doesn't matter whether I'm there or not, they will make you play Hide-and-Seek with them."

He smiles, a bit hesitant. "I want to do right by them."

"So the hard part is that since you're so much bigger, you'll have way fewer options for hiding places. Probably you'll only have a few spots to cycle through. The shower is a good choice, but keep the door open—"

"Kosuke."

"I know, I know, I'm teasing." She pushes his glasses gently up his nose. "They already think of you as part of their lives now. Just like Airi and Sugimoto."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so. And if you don't believe me, I have enough crayon drawings of you to prove it. But! For now..." Kosuke pushes herself up from the armrest and pulls her laptop back to her. "Back to work. We're almost there."

He has to stand to reach the papers on the far side of the table and afterward settles next to her on the sofa. "What if you're not there to read the bedtime stories?"

"You're going to have to work on your acting skills. They will raise hell if you don't make Professor Pitterpatter sound like a caffeinated clown."

"They're that particular?"

"Oh, Kyoya." She tuts and shakes her head. "Kyoya, Kyoya, Kyoya. I love you, but you don't know just how commanding children can be. They will turn into drill sergeants in a heartbeat."

She returns to her backspacing and indenting, trying to figure out how to get the paragraphs to align correctly. Doing this will break this sentence up, doing that pushes these two paragraphs together…Kosuke wonders how mankind has progressed so far yet still hasn't made a computer that further breaks what you're trying to fix.

The room is suddenly very quiet. True, her keys clacking had made up most of the evening's soundtrack, but the turning of pages had been part of it, too. Now there is none, and out of the corner of her eye she sees that Kyoya is not looking at the sheets of paper in his hands, but at her.

She waits, but he doesn't say anything. His expression seems calm, but there's something so intense in his eyes that is almost too much to keep her gaze on, but she does. It gives her a feeling of sparks dancing in her chest.

"What?" she asks, so very obtuse. "I was just joking, they're not actually that…"

He knows she was joking, of course. That wasn't the part he was hooked on.

A surge of heat rushes up her body, and a flood of cold rushes down, both at the same time. She had said something that should have made her tongue feel heavy with its weight, but instead, she'd said it with no more thought than with taking a breath. She may have ruined a moment that was supposed to be precious. Now it's out here between them, however thoughtlessly, and should it be? It's true, it's very true, but has it come too soon?

Kosuke tries to take a breath to calm down, but it shudders into her lungs. "I'm…sorry I said it like that. I didn't mean—I—no, I mean it, I just don't want you to think…Um."

Her tongue gives up on her. Her brain, meanwhile, is screaming to run downstairs and drown herself in the pool.

As always, Kyoya understands all the things that she can't put into words and comforts her—placing his hand over hers where it's resting on the sofa.

Then his other hand reaches further, his thumb brushing along her jawline, his palm grazing the back of her neck. Kosuke burns.

Kyoya is burning, too—she can see it in the rise and fall of his chest and the bob in his throat—but he doesn't stop until his fingers are in her hair and he's cradling her head. It's gentle and sweet and Kosuke thinks that this must be what it feels like to be adored.

She adores him, she adores him, and somehow she puts the intensity of it into the calm movement of placing her hand upon his chest, pinching the lapel of his shirt between her forefinger and thumb.

For just a moment there is serenity during which they take each other in. Eventually, something snaps, or surges, or flies free, and whether it was in her or in Kyoya, it brings their lips together.

At first, his mouth is a bit tight, unopened—and Kosuke considers that this might be the first kiss in his life. As for her, she doesn't know the count, but it feels like the first. It's jumping into cool water on a hot summer day, a shock, then euphoria.

She moves her lips to show him, slowly, and keeps her hand on his chest almost like a buffer to keep from throwing herself headfirst into all of him. He figures it out quickly, and it's so nice that Kosuke could cry. And now that buffer is useless because Kyoya brings his other hand up so he can cradle her head in both and bring her as close as possible until he can be as greedy as he wants.

There's no telling if they stay like this for three seconds or minutes or hours, but eventually, they have to break apart for air. They just look at each other. Kyoya tucks back the locks of hair that he'd mussed with his hands.

"I love you, too. I should've said that first."

Kosuke snorts and pulls him to her to give one last peck on the corner of his mouth. "We do everything out of order. But I got the idea."

He takes the hand she'd brought to his face and holds it there, eventually turning just so to press his lips into the heel of her palm. They want the same thing, she thinks: for every hand on every clock to stop ticking for a minute so that they can stay suspended here. Not for the first time, and not for the last.

Finally, though, Kosuke pulls back and sighs. "Now we have a problem."

"What?" Kyoya straightens up, but he swallows, too. "If that wasn't very good, I—"

She puts her hand over his mouth to stop him. "I'm never going to get this done with you in the room." She picks up her laptop and makes for the door, waving over her shoulder. "You stay here, I'll be back when it's finished."

She can hear him chuckle as she closes the door behind her. Her face still feels like it's steaming, so she leans her back against the door to catch her breath. She's tempted to slide down to the floor squealing like the lead in a romance movie, or just throw the door back open and say, Forget about the essay, and see where things go from there.

Ugh, no. She won't waste all the time they'd spent on it (even though she's sure neither would mind it).

Kosuke goes to her bedroom and doesn't get up from her desk and chair until she's satisfied. She also chews up her lips quite a bit, trying to get rid of the phantom sensation that's distracting her.

The essay is turned in with every comma, period, and citation perfectly in place. Chef Matsuhisa thanks everyone for their submissions and says it will be about a week until she hears back from the publisher.

In the span of that week, the whole competition completely slips from Kosuke's mind. She only remembers it when Chef Matsuhisa announces that her friend was very impressed with everyone's submissions but ultimately decided to publish Amaya Domen's essay, Nutrition Label vs. Safety Label: One and the Same? As for everyone else, Chef gives them the names of journals that might be interested in their work. Kosuke jots the names down in her notebook to look into later.

At the end of the period, Kosuke is putting her things away in her bookbag when Amaya enters the room, immediately regaled by praise and congratulations.

"Oh, honestly, stop. It isn't that big of a deal." Amaya says this, but while she tosses her hair back very majestically. "I'm honestly surprised. It was such a rush job."

Her fans don't stop singing, of course, but eventually, it all dies down until Benjiro can ask, "When do you think it'll be published? A few weeks? Do you think we could get the first prints?"

"I could certainly ask Chef Matsuhisa! Oh, and I finished reading what everyone else wrote. It was all so good! It's not fair that they were only taking one submission, I think all of you should be on those pages!"

To this, Rika snorts. "Not me. I didn't realize until Chef Matsuhisa told me that I'd accidentally left out the whole last page."

"Well, I want to read what everyone else wrote, too!" Yoshiko shakes Benjiro by the arm, making him wince. "Print your essay for me. You, too, Rika, and—Kosuke! Kosuke, you have to give us what you wrote!"

Several others shout their agreement—"I want to read it, too!" "Oh, yeah, I want to read yours!" "Me too, Kosuke!"-and it really does warm Kosuke from the inside out. She won't let it go to her head, but she's allowed to be flattered.

"Sure, no problem. I'll try to get some copies ready for you guys the next time we come to class."

Amaya waves for her attention as though she isn't standing at the center of the crowd. "Oh, and won't you make one for me, too, Kosuke? I'm sure it's amazing. You should submit it to those other journals, I'm sure they'd accept it!"

Amaya had probably been waiting for this moment all week. Maybe she even put it on her calendar with stars and exclamation points. No doubt, she expects Kosuke to be blinking back humiliated tears now, trying to avoid her gaze. She may have gone through breakfast fantasizing about Kosuke weeping into her pillow.

For Kosuke, though, today is just Friday.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make you a copy."

The beaming smile on Amaya's face dims, her lips closing over her teeth. "Good. I can't believe it, you know—getting a whole new essay written in just one day. So much drive. It must have turned out great!"

"Eh." Kosuke shrugs. "It turned out alright, I guess. But it was fun. Anyway—I have to get going. Bye, guys!"

Her friends and classmates give their goodbyes, but just as Kosuke has one foot out of the doorway, Amaya speaks up again. "Do you want a copy of my essay, too? Oh—I didn't mean for that to sound so proud. I just thought you'd like it."

"Yeah, sure. I'll read it. See everybody next week!"

It wouldn't have happened, but if Kosuke had won—and without Kyoya's help—she'd be skipping down the hall right now. She'd spend the night dreaming of Amaya's outrage. She might have even popped a bottle of champagne when she got home, and given a toast to the look that would have been on Amaya's face when everyone congratulated Kosuke instead of her. They have that much in common.

What has instead happened: Kosuke lost, even with Kyoya's help. Kosuke is triumphant, even though she lost.

She pulls her phone out while she walks and texts Kyoya, Are we still good for tonight?

Yes. What happened?

Didn't win. Oh well.

I'm sorry.

It's okay! Let's try to get the movie started at 6:30. The kids will probably be nodding off halfway through anyway.

I'll be there at 6.

Good! Look forward to seeing you :)

You, too.

Kosuke tucks her phone away. Maybe she'll start writing as a hobby. It was pretty fun.

Chapter summary:

Chef Matsuhisa announces a class competition to be published in an upcoming culinary journal. Kosuke is excited to submit the research piece she'd written, until she finds out Amaya has copied her thesis idea to one-up her. Kosuke angrily resolves to write a completely new piece before the deadline the next day, and enlists Kyoya's help. The two of them work on the essay at the Amida mansion, taking occasional breaks to unwind and, later, put the children to bed. They talk briefly about their future together with the children, and during the conversation Kosuke thoughtlessly tells Kyoya she loves him. They finally have their first kiss, and Kyoya tells her the same. Despite their efforts, Kosuke's essay still loses to Amaya's, but Kosuke is too happy to be bothered by it.