Hello, lovelies! An update, yay! I'm on a roll. But really this is compensation because I'm going to be busy the next few days. However, I'll still try to update every 2-3 weeks. No promises though.

Anyways, thank you for the reviews! I believe I responded to the people who had accounts. For those who were not signed in/no account, and those I were not able to reply back, I thank you, too: shannaygriffin, ChuGaEun, Kaorugal, KoiishiKAO, InUGiRl209, Pantheraa, and all the other Guests. To all those who are reading, and favorited this story, thank you. You all make my day.

oooOOOooo

The Maid Turns Clinical!

Chapter 9: Decisions

They lay there for some time in silence, careful to maintain its sanctity. Misaki's ear was pressed against his chest, relaxed by the steady beat of his heart. Usui's arms surrounded her almost possessively, legs entangled. The silence was a comfort but they could not sleep, their thoughts preventing them from doing so.

She had been the first to break the silence. "You're not sleepy?"

Rhetorical. He couldn't help but snort. "Nope."

He could almost picture her face when she replied. "You're laughing at me again."

"You make the weirdest observations," Her stomach suddenly rumbled, and Usui laughed, earning a rebuking tap on his chest. "And, we really didn't get to finish our meal."

"Yeah," she grumbled. "Because you jumped me."

"Hey, weren't you the one who kept bugging us on our schedule?" he teased.

At that, she fell silent, gnawing her lower lip. Surely, it was past midnight now. No one was waiting for her at home since it was Suzuna's turn to keep watch over their mother. And yet…

Admit it.

Philosophically, she shook her head. The deal was to get laid, wasn't it? The prelude, though sweet and romantic, should not have been necessary. Those things were not part of the bargain. Now, it's over—end game. Time to go home.

Time to go home. A heavy sensation blossomed in her chest and Misaki took a deep breath, willing it to go away. Gathering her strength, she looked up at him. "Usui," she cleared her throat, forcing the strange lump that's constricting her voice to go away. She tried again. "Usui…I…I think—"

But the look on his face silenced her; he already knew what she was going to say. He only smiled that strange half smile of his as he reached out to brush the lone tear that had fallen unbidden on her cheek. Then, he took her hand, raised it solemnly to his lips without breaking eye contact.

"Misaki-chan," he murmured so endearingly it melted her resolve. "Will you have dinner with me?"

She could not say no.

oooOOOooo

Slim fingers fumbled for the zippers of his pants. It brought Usui sharply back to reality. Grabbing onto the last shreds of his reason, he grabbed Misaki by the shoulders and pulled sharply away. Through the haze of her desires, she did not understand immediately what he meant to do. Only when he refused to look at her, the muscles of his back clenched and stiff did it dawn on her.

Refusal. Rejection.

Beneath the bubbling frustration was pain, spearing directly to her heart. And then came anger, so tumultuous it left her unsteady even as she remained seated on the windowsill. Her hands curled into a fist against the jamb. Only their uneven breaths were audible in the silence.

Why? She wanted to scream. Why, damn you.

Instead, she took deep calming breaths, forcing her heart to regain its regular rhythm. And spoke incredibly calmly for a person who wanted so much to scream. "You're sure."

Usui glanced at her briefly; she didn't see his eyes flicker momentarily on the fresh bruise on her neck. It decided him immediately and he allowed the desire to wash from him. "Yes."

Tears were useless. Certainly, she would not beg for him to fuck her. Never again. Hadn't she done that once long before? Once was enough. She didn't need him to shred her already sore pride. She bit her lower lip until the metallic tang of iron graced her tongue. It steadied her, for a moment.

"All right," she said coolly. "I'd like to go home now."

He opened a drawer, took his keys out. "I'll take you."

"I can go home alone," she lashed.

"I'll take you there."

"No." She stood up, cursing her wobbly legs and shoved past him.

Cursing her beneath his breath, Usui grabbed her arm roughly. "Let go of me! I can take care of myself."

"Don't walk away from me."

Energy vibrating, she took a swing at him, which he caught easily. She refused to be intimidated by the gleam in his emerald eyes. "Misa-chan," he murmured softly. "You will let me drive you home. Or do I have to remind you that I can make you beg?"

The stony look in his face promised that he would do just that if she forced his hand. The tension was too thick, it was almost palpable. Mouth dry as dust, she looked away.

"Fine," she muttered. "Take me home."

oooOOOooo

The drive back was mutinously silent. Misaki didn't offer him directions, and he didn't need it; he had scoped her house before, the loyal Aoi himself showing him the way. She remained unaware of this, of course. Pensively, he rolled down the windows to allow the fresh morning dew in, hoping that it would clear his head.

Usui risked a glance at her and saw her gazing angrily out the window. She was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of khaki pants which she tightened at the waist with his belt. In spite of her lean figure, she was anything but undesirable. He could see the familiar knot between her brows and resisted the equally familiar urge to brush it away. He ignored the surge of need, concentrating instead on the road ahead.

He would not touch her. Yes, he already had and actually could, but he refused his let his loins dictate him. Violent sex had hurt her and touching her in her raw state might satiate their sexual appetites; it would not, however, help her in the long run. He knew she despised men already, for things related to her father which she never fully eluded. He didn't want her to believe that he only wanted her for her body. Because he definitely wanted her, needed her with a despair he was unfamiliar with. And he needed more than her body now. He was determined to get the entirety of her even if it meant remaining on sabbatical for a longer while.

So he would not touch her. Not when things far more important than sex were at stake.

Even as she stared at the quick blur outside the window, Misaki stewed. Now that the cloud of passion—and hormones—had dissipated, she was glad—grateful even—that he stopped. The stress of the past few days, she reasoned, as well as her encounter with her client must have left her vulnerable and entirely too open. The siren calls of the past had been too enticing, too tempting, and she had allowed herself to drown, much like the fishermen in the stories. The way she acted around him was inexcusable; she had much better control than that.

It still, however, didn't make the sting of the rejection any lighter.

The scene replayed over and over again in her mind. Parts of her wondered why he stopped. Was it because he did not want her? Unlikely, because he did approach her first—didn't he offer to make her his "maid", whatever that meant? Was it because he was afraid to touch her, knowing she had been hurt by the client? Reasonable. But why take her back to his apartment? Why did he close that gap? She trembled lightly at the memory of him standing close, the moonlight making his hair dazzle, his pale skin almost gleaming; of his lips trailing kisses onto her face, his warm nicotine-stained breath, the taste of his mouth as they finally connected, arms tight around her.

It felt all too right.

She shook her head. People do incredibly crazy things in the moonlight.

Misaki just knew that he was studying him right now, taking inventory of her even as he drove the vehicle. What does he even see?

That desperate woman six months ago?

The hopeful medical student?

The prostitute?

The last thought niggled at her brain. Was that it? He didn't touch her because she was a woman who spread her legs for money? Was he afraid that he would catch some venereal disease off her?

A frustrated sound struggled at the back of her throat; she passed it off as a light cough. Sighing, she rubbed her arms self-consciously when she caught him glancing.

"Cold?" he asked suddenly.

"No," she spoke after some time. She mocked her own indecision and continued more boldly. "Not really."

He seemed to be frowning. Suddenly, he cursed audibly making her jump. And made a sharp turn on the next bend. "Hey—what—"

"You haven't eaten yet."

Too stunned to be exasperated, she raised a brow. "And so…?"

Usui gave her a very dry look. "When was the last time you sat down and took a meal?"

"Yesterday…" she flinched unconsciously at his expression. "Morning."

Which was not a total lie. She did manage to eat half the stale onigiri that Suzuna had sternly given to her. And she was sitting when she ate it. The steel in his jaw did not lessen, putting her instantly on defensive. "I'm fine. And I just forgot—I had a lot of things in my mind. And I probably need a diet anyways."

The car was put to an abrupt stop. Looking out of the window, she realized that they were parked in front of a 24-hour convenience store.

Turning off the ignition, Usui gave her his full attention. The uncharacteristically grave expression on his face would have been funny had it not been directed at her. She watched him struggle for composure.

"Misaki," The way her name rolled of his tongue came softly, almost warningly, she found herself backing up a bit. "It is 4:35AM. Class today will start at nine, meaning we have the luxury of time. So when I buy you a hot meal, you will sit down, say itadakimasu and eat it. Without any arguments." He added when she opened her mouth to do just that.

She furiously glared at him. How dare he order me around like some child? She took a calming breath but her voice shook with anger when she spoke. "I've lived all this time taking care of myself, Usui-san. I certainly am not going to start changing that now."

This statement was met with unnerving silence. But it was his unexpectedly toothy, humourless smile which truly unsettled her. Before she could even process what was happening, he had already stepped out of the car, opened the door at her side, and scooped her into his arms, bridal style.

"Diet, my ass," he said cheerfully over her screams of protest. "What—were you aiming for the expected percentile of a 5 year old?" He ven bounced her in his arms for effect.

"U-Usui!" she screamed, ramming her fist ineffectually against his chest. "P-put me down, this instant."

But he didn't. He brought her in the convenience store, ignored the sleepy gapes the cashier was giving them, and plopped her unceremoniously on one of the plastic chairs. "I won't have to tell you not to run," he said conversationally as she fumed. "Because I will catch you and bring you back here the same way we entered. And you won't like it."

Before she could huff out that she wasn't planning to, he had already gone to buy them food. Moments later, he placed heated Mabo Tofu Don in front of her as well as a hot cocoa. For himself, he bought two meat buns and black coffee. The inviting smell made her mouth water and her stomach growled in response much to her remorse. If Usui heard, he didn't comment on it.

Grudgingly, she murmured her thanks, lifted her chopsticks and began her meal. She was no stranger to fast food, knew that what it lacked in taste and substance was compensated by cheap price and availability. But the moment the food touched her tongue, her eyes rolled to high heaven. It had been days since she last sat down and truly ate a warm meal. Usui only sighed in relief when she attacked her food with more gusto, consuming it within a matter of minutes.

Sated, Misaki sighed and slowly drank the proffered cocoa. And saw him grinning at her appreciatively. "Wh-what? I just realized that I was hungry, that's all." She said defensively, hiding vainly behind the paper cup.

His answer was a snigger he tried to hide behind one of his hands. When she continued to glower at him, he gave up and laughed, catching her off guard. "I knew it. Food does melt all your hostility."

Usui laughed again and she realized then that she had not seen him laugh since their reunion. It was a pleasing sound that warmed her immensely, and she found herself smiling fondly at this echo from the past. He handed her the other meat bun. "I saw the way you were eyeing this and I knew you'd still want more."

"How about you?"

He raised his half-eaten bun. "Still not done. And I did eat last night."

They ate more companionably now. With Usui updating her on school matters, the niggling doubts at the back of Misaki's mind were temporarily put to rest.

oooOOOooo

"Misakiiiiiiiii!"

The familiar shriek made the raven-haired woman flinch in the midst of parking her bike. As she turned around, she found herself staggering back at the weight that had suddenly thrown her arms around her.

I think glomping is the slang for this, she mused, whilst affectionately rubbing the top of the blonde who was now uncontrollably sobbing onto her uniform. "Sakura-san, you're acting like I died and rose back from the dead."

Sakura suddenly pulled back, grabbing her by the shoulders, anxiety now replaced with fury. "You just disappeared on us! No communication, no word, no note, no anything!" She compounded each accusation with a firm shake, earning a wince from Misaki.

"I think you've just exceeded your melodramatic meter today, Sakura-chan," chided Shizuko lightly.

"Shizu—" The glare the bespectacled friend sent her way could have frozen water. Lips pressed tightly, she turned and left, leaving Misaki uneasy. "Wh-what's with her?"

Sniffing, the blonde looked at her accusatorily. "Don't you get it? It's your fault!"

"What—how come it's my fault now!"

"Really! You're so dense! Because we're your friends, baka, and we were worried for you." Dejected, Sakura's lower lip trembled, and Misaki was suddenly afraid that she would cry again. Gladly, she didn't, but continued. "We're furious at you because you're acting this way. We're your best friends—we've been together since forever. We're not asking you to tell us everything…but could you at least trust us?"

The guilt weighed heavily as Sakura gave her once last doleful look before turning away. The three of them had been together ever since their respective parents urged them to play in the same playground, in the same sandbox years ago. Then, they had gone to the same nurseries, the same schools. In senior high, they all decided that they would be doctors together. Fortune continued to bring them together even in the same medical school, in the same class, as though friendship was inevitable and interred in their bones. Their differences in personality did not bring conflict; instead, it brought them together, like pieces of a puzzle. Though they did have arguments from time to time, those were fences easily mended because of the simple fact that they were, in effect, family, too.

But there are truths best hidden, even from family.

She stood there for a minute, the guilt to momentarily overwhelm her; one by one, she allowed her defences to rebuild itself. Once steady, she deliberately walked towards the main building, worries tucked away neatly yet ever present.

When Misaki entered the classroom, the early morning chatter paused momentarily, giving way to scrutiny. She only looked at them steadily, daringly, and they resumed their previous occupation albeit more controlled. She took her usual seat and risked a glance at her friends who were now seated at the far right side of the room. Sakura was absently nibbling the other end of her pen, a sure sign of anxiety while Shizuko was reading—or at least pretending to be since her eye were decidedly fixed on the same page of her manual. When they gave no indication of having noticed her attention, she gave up with a frustrated sigh and rummaged her bag for her personal mini-notes on gastrointestinal diseases.

It's not here, she cursed under her breath, slightly panicked. It took her six hours to make that. Immediately, she sifted through her memory, wondering where she could have left it.

"Lost something, Kaichou?."

She nearly jumped out of her seat. "Dammit—"

"Why, good morning, too, Pres." Usui stood at the aisle, bag slung indulgently over his shoulder, with the most infuriating expression on his face.

"You're in a good mood," she scowled, digging her hand into the bag once more for a second hunt.

"I have every reason to be." She reddened self-consciously, remembering the events of the early morning. Before she could swat him away, he straightened and nonchalantly placed his belongings on the seat next to her.

"Hey—"

"No one seems to be seated here," he cut off mildly.

"Sakura and—"

"—Shizuko, yes…well, they're over there aren't they? There aren't any permanent seating arrangements."

A protest bubbled at her throat; quickly, she looked at her friends but they were still ignoring her. Stifling her resentment, she growled. "Fine. See if I care."

Childish, childish! She winced internally.

Inclining his arm on the table, he tipped his head, watching her rummage through her bag. "What are you looking for?"

"Nothing—just my other notebook. Will you stop looking at me like that?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I like looking at you."

The way he said it was deliberately careless; helpless against the sudden hammering of her heart, she turned. Her furious amber eyes met with his deceptively calm ones. Her frantic rummaging stopped. Following the events at the convenience store, he had been more relaxed, and had been kind even. He didn't ask her what happened with the client, didn't ask why she practically disappeared from the school. When he dropped her at her apartment, he simply waved off her stammered thanks and left. And now he was here. Pretending as though everything was normal.

She wanted to make things as normal as possible for them, too. But the way he looked at her every time made it impossible for her to keep calm. It was a look that made her want foolish things—made her want to reach out, touch him, and be touched as well.

Crazy, that's just crazy. With effort she bottled these thoughts with a satisfying cork. For now.

"Are you all right?" he asked when she remained quiet.

Slowly, she nodded, not trusting her own voice.

His open scrutiny made her squirm; it was as though he was reading her mind.

His expression changed, a heady mixture of mischief and desire. "What are you thinking of, Pres?"

"Shut up," she whispered harshly but her eyes betrayed her.

"Let's talk."

"Don't—don't," she cursed herself for stammering. Pull yourself together, Misaki!

"Good morning, class."

Grateful for the distraction, Misaki settled back in her seat as a harassed-looking Dr. Minekura entered the room, waving off their respectful greeting. By the time the man told them that they would be having a surprise exam, earning collective groans from the class, Misaki convinced herself that the weight in her belly was nothing more than school jitters and had nothing to do with a certain alien sitting next to her.

oooOOOooo

Misaki stalked the corridors, the scowl on her face so murderous that the other students gave her a wide berth. Only propriety prevented her from shredding the test paper which was already crumpled beyond recognition in her left hand.

91, she growled internally. She had nine mistakes in the very first exam in Surgery. Sure, it was only a pre-test, but it was a recorded pre-test, which would hold bearing in their final grades. It didn't matter that her score was in the upper percentile. And to make things worse…

"Will you stop following me?" she gritted, feeling those intense eyes boring at the back of her head.

"I'm not following you, Pres," said Usui, grinning as he finally stepped up beside her to match her speed. It was amazing how this man could move from knotting her up with sexual frustration to twisting her in righteous fury. "I just planned to go the same place as you."

"Do you even know where I'm going?"

"Library," he quipped. Oh gods, that jolly tone grated on her nerves. "I do have some studying to do."

"Do you, really, Mr. You-Got-A-Perfect-Score?" she winced, aware how high-strung she sounded. Because he had perfected the exam, while she garnered the second highest score—which did not matter because it was still 9 points away. Did he really have to rub that in her face by following her around?

"Competitive, aren't you?"

"Of course," she snorted. "I have a scholarship to maintain."

Another side to her, he thought as he watched her furious profile. Ego hurt, certainly, but he didn't voice this out; he still prized his life after all.

"I don't even understand what I got wrong! I reviewed my answers three times, damn it."

"Your answer on #28 was definitely wrong. Internationally, the malignancy with the highest mortality rate in women is still lung cancer, not breast cancer."

"It is—" She stopped dead on her tracks. Then spit fire, "You've been peeking at my answers?"

The expression on his face was a poor imitation of nonchalance. "I finished early remember?"

And he did, too. She remembered glowering at his back when he stood up, barely thirty minutes into the test to pass his paper. He promptly returned to the seat next to her to read something. "You were reading something—that manga—I don't know the title!"

"The third volume of Gensomaden Saiyuki is definitely entertaining but not quite as entertaining as watching you," he only grinned further as she fumed and sputtered.

Definitely far more interesting.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you." The glower she was giving him dared him to be upfront. But he has always been a difficult person, especially to people he liked.

"No, not really." But his smug smile was a dead giveaway.

Unforgiveable, definitely unforgivable!

"UNFORGIVABLE!" she nearly screamed, barely able to control herself. "You think it's funny? You think it ends this way? What—do you even remotely think I'll ask for your damned help? Don't kid yourself. Brat. Asshole. Alien! I will defeat you, and that's final!"

With a last frustrated sound in her throat, she ran out on him, secretly satisfied with the speechless look on his face.

"Now, you really pissed her off, Usui-san." An amused Shizuko appeared to have been watching the entire scene unfold from a safe distance. Sakura stood at her bespectacled friend's flank, obviously torn between worry and amusement.

Usui watched the president disappear from the stairwell and shrugged. "I can't help it if I'm smart." Seeing the identically raised brows from the young women's faces, he sighed. "You guys aren't talking to her, are you?"

"We already have," said Sakura. "We just want to give us time. It has been hard on us, too."

He eyed the two speculatively and resisted the very unbecoming urge to scratch his head. Women were strange creatures. "I don't usually make a habit of standing in the middle but…my guess is that she didn't mean to hurt your feelings. The two of you are important to her."

Tipping her head, Shizuko studied him. "How can you be so sure? You've barely known us for a week."

Their dinner consisted of the remains of cold pasta and pesto bread. After their satisfying meal, they settled on the floor, using the felt blanket as a makeshift rug. They sat huddled together in front of the fireplace, watching the flames kindle. By this time, they had already talked of many things—his family, and vague details of his origin, his past. In turn, she told her about her childhood, her mother's illness, and her life as a working student.

"I'm right—you are a strong woman."

Her head had been nestled on the crook of his shoulder, and he felt her sigh. "I had to be. I have a family to take care of."

"Do you have regrets?"

She looked up at him for a moment then settled back again. "I know this may seem strange to you but I don't. Not really. Sure there are times when I would look at others my age—and then wonder what it would be like. But in spite of that, I don't regret anything—not even the hardships in my life. See, even in those moments, it would often feel hopeless, but somehow there's a sense of knowing—that it will all pass, and I will move forward. I have people who love me, I have my lil sis…I have friends."

"Hmm," he murmured into her hair, lazily drawing circles into her bare back. "Tell me about them."

"Didn't we agree on non-specificity?"

"Just tell me about them. I don't need their names." He could feel her scowl in deliberation but he has already won.

"Well. I have three very special friends. The other's a guy—no, he is not my boyfriend so don't give me that look. The other two—they've been my friends since I was very young and we've always been together. We always joked that we were triplets you know, in spite of the fact that we don't look anything alike and are nothing alike. Sa—I mean, the first one—is always cheerful and bubbly and positive; and the other one is always bookish and serious and cynical. And me…well, there's me."

"There's you," he echoed earning a chuckle.

"Yeah. In a way, we've complemented each other, unlikely friends as we are. But you know, now that I think of it, our relationship has always been something far simpler."

"And what's that?"

"Sisters," she murmured softly, affectionately. "Just sisters of the heart."

Usui only smiled at them, the memory bringing a strange twist in his chest. "Because you're her sisters," he murmured simply and left them pondering over his words.

oooOOOooo

Upon leaving Usui in the corridor, she was hailed by Yukimura, who told her to go to Dr. Miyazono's office. The doctor had apparently been worried by her consecutive absences, knowing that it would affect her standing. Hesitantly, she divulged the truth regarding her mother's condition; Miyazono listened uninterrupted to her story, nodding in sympathy.

"How is your mother holding up so far," she asked once Misaki finished.

"She's…stable." A ball formed at her throat; she gulped it down. The intent stare the doctor was giving her was not helping her nerves.

"So…you need a competent thoracic surgeon to take on your mother's case," she stated softly, steepling her fingers. Misaki nodded. There was a faraway look in the doctor's face, as though she was thinking of things beyond that moment. "All right. I will make some calls—I can't promise you though, but I will forward your case to my colleagues so that they can look into it as well."

"You—you mean it, doctor?" stuttered Misaki, dumfounded.

Smiling, Maria took the younger woman's hand. "This is something I would be very willing to do for you, Ayuzawa-san."

"Why?"

"Simply because I'm a doctor," she answered. "And, as far as I am concerned, you are already a colleague of mine.

"Now…as for your other responsibilities. Do you think you are still up for the job as president? I'm asking because I don't want to put too much pressure on you. I do know you would be willing to shoulder it, but if you have any misgivings about it, I understand. I just want to give you options."

Incredibly touched and embarrassed, Misaki withdrew her hand and knotted them carefully on her lap. "I still want it—the position as president, doctor. I'm even still planning to run for student council. In fact," she took a deep breath. "I want to be the next Student Council President even, and be one of the people to push some changes into this school."

The sincerity on Misaki's face made the older woman chuckle. Standing up, she reached out and took the student's hand again, this time in a firm handshake. "Interesting. I will watch it happen then."

When she was finally alone, Maria took out her cellphone and studied the last of a string of messages sent to her an hour ago.

…I don't normally ask for favors. But Ayuzawa needs help. Please, do this for me.

The woman gave an uncharacteristic snort. He actually said "please". He was right—it was not normal for him to ask for favors. And his involvement with Ayuzawa was certainly peculiar. Remembering their last conversation in the office, she shook her head. Heart valves and thoracic surgeons. She could see his drive now. It was easier to see that he had fallen in love with her, through some strange circumstance.

"I really will watch it all happen," she murmured to herself with a smile. "And I hope you tell me about it one day, Usui-san."

With that, she scrolled through her phonebook for available heart surgeons.

oooOOOooo

Misaki left the office in an entirely different state of mind. If Dr. Miyazono could find another surgeon to take on her mother's case, it would definitely help her case. On top of that, she was allowed to keep her position as class president in spite of her situation. She called me her colleague, she all but fluttered, completely a fan girl. Gratitude and hope lightened her steps towards the library. She wanted to share it with someone. Someone she could speak to freely without judging her. Someone who could contradict and agree with her every step of the way.

Would he listen? She wondered thinking of Usui. In spite of everything, the right words eluded her.

What do you say to someone who had given you the most beautiful night of your life? What do you tell him when you meet him again, after six months, a full-fledged prostitute? How do you talk to that person, knowing that he offered to save you, and you refused?

How do you even begin?

That night six months ago, she lost her virginity to him. But that was not the only thing that happened, was it? Their tongues loosened as their bodies found comfort and they found themselves sharing things about themselves they had never shared with anyone else. Hopes, fears, dreams were exchanged, and intimacy was shared not just by mere physicality. And now by sheer fate, they were thrown together again.

Can we share those things again?

Foolish thoughts, she scolded herself. If anything was proven by the events that morning, it was that they could not stay in one place without arguing. She totally ignored the fact that it was her doing most of the arguing, though. And yet when her hand pushed the door of the library, she stood there for a moment, unwillingly scanning it for a single face.

The disappointment weighed heavy when she realized that he was not there.

oooOOOooo

How long is she planning to stand there, Usui mused. He could almost feel her eyes wandering, searching. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and with a start realized that she was searching for him.

Fantasizing again, came the self-rebuke. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was right; and the temptation to confirm was too much.

Stepping up behind her, he cleared his throat audibly. "Looking for me, Pres?"

When she turned, he felt his heart leap. The relieved expression of her face made him want to reach out, touch her. Instead, he scrutinized her, hands deep in his pocket. What is it about her, he wondered, that her rare smiles made him feel like an inexperienced schoolboy? "You look happy to see me."

She must not have been aware that she was smiling because the expression was quickly replaced by the familiar frown. "Do I?" Studying her feet, she muttered. "Well, I must be. So what. Is that wrong?"

Cute. Too cute. He held his breath at the irresistible sight of blushing awkwardly. He muttered softly. "You don't play fair, Pres."

"What?" she gaped. "What do you mean by that?"

Shaking his head—how can she be still so innocent in some ways?—he touched her lightly on the elbow, steering them to her private study area. "Don't be distracted, Pres," he said cheerfully. "I'll tell you where you went wrong in the exams. In turn, you can tell me what you've been itching to share."

That was how Sakura and Shizuko found them almost an hour later: Misaki alternately arguing and poring over a thick Sabiston while Usui negated her disputes. The raven haired woman paused midsentence when she saw them approach while her companion easily smiled at them.

"Misaki-chan, I hope we're not bothering you."

"No," she said quickly. "We're just talking about something—antibiotics and…and…"

"Pseudomembranous colitis," Usui supplied.

"Yeah. That." Suddenly uneasy and lost for words, Misaki looked at her friends nervously.

"Can we join you here?"

"Yes, yeah, of course. Sakura-chan…Shizuko-chan…I—"

The blonde girl shook her head and grasped Misaki's hand tightly. "No—don't apologize. We're sorry for being buttheads earlier. The worry just got to our heads."

Nodding, Shizuko added, "I think she summed it up pretty much. But please, Misaki-san….please don't do that again. Don't disappear on us."

Throat tight, Misaki stood up just in time with Sakura tearfully flinging her arms around her while Shizuko stood up, her glasses poorly hiding her equally tearful eyes. "Look you said I shouldn't apologize but—I'm sorry, I really am if I just up and went. There were things that happened—"

Shaking her head again, Sakura held the other by her shoulders. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you don't have to tell us if you aren't ready. Don't force yourself. Just know that we're here. And we love you all the same." Sending a grateful glance at Usui, she added. "After all, that's what sisters are for."

oooOOOooo

The young chauffeur tapped impatient fingers against the wheel of the green Royce. In spite of the young boss' insistence that he didn't need a driver, Aoi had imposed himself more than once in the task. He had always claimed that it was on Gerald's orders; this was only half-true. Truthfully, it was his loyalty to the younger man that had made him partial to him. And since he has been Usui's companion and partner-in-crime, he had stayed imposing himself in any way that he hoped was useful. He had learned to be a valet, butler, chauffeur and even an occasional seamstress, the last of which was a pleasure due to his exploits in fashion.

Today was one of the few times Usui asked him to wait for him in front of the school. And he already had an inkling as to the reason.

The distinctive tall blonde appeared and beside him was Aoi's best friend, pulling her trusty bike. Relief washed through his system at the confirmation of his suspicions. Unable to help himself, he went out of the car and smothered the surprised woman in a tight embrace.

"Aoi?" When Aoi pulled back to assess her, she looked up at him obviously puzzled. "What are you doing here? And why are you wearing…"

Her voice trailed, eyes widening. She remembered. Of course, Aoi part-timed as a glorified chauffeur to some very rich man. He never told her who his boss was.

Dizzily, she remembered the phone call when Aoi was drunk, remembered how familiar the voice on the other end was. It should be familiar. It should because…

"Your boss is the ali—I mean, Usui-san." Aoi grinned widely as dismay, confusion and more surprise coated her conclusion; it was painted all over her face.

"Yep." Unable to help herself, Misaki mercilessly wacked Aoi on the side of his head. "Ouch! Hey, I'm supposed to be the one that's angry with you."

"Sorry," she said, not really sorry. "You just look too happy about it. I thought you were having a seizure."

"Just back and being evil now, eh?" he replied slyly, earning a glare. "I am still angry with you."

"Are you now," she said drily.

"Well, not really. I've been too worried to be angry. Now I'm just happy and relieved."

Usui watched this happy exchange, hands hidden deep in his pockets. He unconsciously clenched when Misaki palmed the younger man's face, her smile entirely too fond. Aoi looked up at him, grinning nervously as he slowly extricated himself. "Hey, boss."

The blonde only nodded and steered Misaki towards the car. "Usui-san—is this how you learned where I worked? How much did Aoi tell you?"

"Pretty much everything," he said shortly.

"Everything? Are you sure?"

Usui's own eyes narrowed. "Is there something else I should know?"

Behind him, Aoi shook his head, crossing his hands into a discreet X. "Err. Nothing. Really. Just wondering how much my male best friend has been telling behind my back."

"That's cruel, Misaki-chan," said Aoi, slipping into the driver's seat once Usui was in the car. He could not shake off the feeling that Usui was glaring at the back of his head.

"We are so gonna have a talk, Aoi," she muttered.

He could only groan. "Tell me about it."

oooOOOooo

"Is it true that Misaki is leaving?" Honoka leaned back on the deep red lover's seat, nursing a cigarette between her fingers.

The apartment was entirely too pink for her tastes. The fuchsia rugs, to the walls, and even the Hello Kitty merchandise scattered in the tidy room all screamed pink. Decorating the walls were a mix of abstract and romantic and still-life painting. Beside her small television, there was a 4-feet glass art, an erotic piece of lovers melding into a climax; this, she knew, was a gift from an Irish client who had stayed in Japan a few years back. Overall, the room was comfortable and entirely too cute and alluring at the same time; the designs should have been contradictory but it wasn't. In fact, it perfectly matched Satsuki Hyoudo.

The 35 year old woman came back from the kitchen bearing two plates of her homemade cheesecake. "Hmm? What did you say, Honoka-san?"

"I'm sure you heard that." The she-devil straightened in her seat, tongue darting out as the treat, drowning in chocolate sauce was placed in the coffee table in front of her. "And now you're trying to distract me. Not that it's working."

"Hmm," Satsuki's eyes dramatically fluttered shut as she sampled her own slice. "Mind-blowing. Orgasmic."

"Now you're praising yourself." Unable to resist, Honoka discarded her cigarette and snatched the plate from the table. A sigh passed from her lips as the cheesecake all but melted in her mouth. "Mindblowing. Orgasmic."

"Thank you," she replied, a mischievious smile on her face.

Honoka huffed. "I see where Aoi gets all of his cheek."

"Oh, how is my nephew by the way? And please skip all those erotic details—as much as I love my boy, I'd rather be spared from his sexcapades."

"Funny, I was gonna ask where he got that huge ass cock," she grinned when Satsuki choked into a spoonful. "Kidding. But his cock is pretty big, for a boy his size."

"Oh dear."

The she-devil snickered; the sight of Satsuki squirming was definitely funny. But she had other matters in mind and she refused to be detracted. "Aoi's 'boss' contacted you, made an offer to take Ayuzawa-san, correct?"

Satsuki sighed, understanding now that the topic could not be avoided. "Yes. It was a big surprise, too. Who knew that Takumi-san was the man that our Misa-chan was so tight-lipped about?"

Interested now, Honoka licked her spoon and dug in for another bite. "You know Usui Takumi."

"Why yes. Aoi has been working for the family for quite some time now…though it really didn't begin as work for him first, you know?" she reflected. "I'm not sure if I ever told you about Aoi's childhood. His parents—my brother and his wife—died in a car crash when he was just five. I was left alone to take care of him, see. But back then, I wasn't ready for the sudden responsibility of a growing child. I was in a pretty bad place then—wrapped in drug and sex and…well, I digress."

Honoka frowned at this; that last part was something she had never known about Love Love Café's mama-san. But she didn't pursue this and waited for the other woman to continue.

"When I discovered from my brother's old documents that Edward Walker was an old family friend and legal guardian for Aoi, I contacted him and asked for his help. I remember him…listening patiently, then asking why I seemed to be ready to give him away. See, I wasn't—it hurt me too because I loved Aoi even then. But with my circumstances, and the things I got myself entangled in that time, I felt I had no other choice. What any child needs is stability and a good environment to grow up with and I certainly can't give him that. So I asked Walker-san to take him away, and he did."

"Children need more than stability and good environment—they also need love," said Honoka dispassionately.

Satsuki smiled sadly. "Yes, I knew that, too. I did visit Aoi from time to time but I kept it scarce. There were people in my life back then who would definitely relish knowing that I was in some way connected to a billionaire. I didn't want to risk that, risk Aoi in danger because of my indiscretions.

"So, Aoi grew up in that mansion. Edward Walker treated him like one of his sons, and he was able to go to a good school. Gerald—Edward's son—was also good to him, in his aloof way. But Walker-san died, shortly after that, too. And the following year, another boy was brought into the Walker house—a boy with golden hair and solemn green eyes."

"Usui Takumi."

"Yes—Usui Takumi. It seemed that Walker-san had an illegitimate child from an affair with a Japanese woman. Takumi-san became an orphan when his mother died as well that year, and Gerald took him in. Like father, like son." The smile on the older woman's face was wistful, intriguing Honoka again. What was the connection between Gerald and Satsuki?

Before she could voice this out, Satsuki was already speaking again. "The two orphans naturally became playmates and companions of sorts. But it was a grudging connection in the beginning. Even then, Takumi-san had this superior way about him, entirely too smart for his own good, and Aoi has always had a short temper. They competed—a lot, and Takumi teased him most when Aoi began dabbling in fashion—especially when he was in that phase of wearing girl-clothes."

"I remember that, too."

Satsuki cast a strange look at Honoka's direction. "He was 14 then, and maintained that interest until he was 17 years old. You know, I actually thought he was gay, too. But I later realized that he started using that blonde wig only after he met you."

Caught off guard by this statement, the she-devil blinked rapidly. "Really now."

Satsuki laughed long and went on, refusing to elaborate further. "Anyways—when he was 16, Gerald asked me if he could let Aoi become Usui's personal companion—like a valet or chauffeur. To keep Usui out of trouble."

"Did he get into a lot of trouble?"

"Not necessarily—more of jealous boys at his high school threatening him, girls flocking at him. Those mundane stuff. But I realized that that wasn't really what Gerald wanted. See, Takumi-san was always alone. He was popular, yes, but he didn't really have many friends."

"I see."

Nodding, she continued. "I told Gerald-san that the decision should remain with Aoi so he approached him. Aoi agreed on the condition that if it didn't work out, he would leave. And he also insisted on not being paid—especially when he understood that what Gerald really wanted was for him to become Aoi's friend."

Honoka could not help but smile at that. "Of course. Passionate as ever."

"In the later years, I got to pull myself together. Maybe getting you girls with me into the Love-Love Café made me stronger. But I still couldn't leave the business, even though I wanted to. I can't really afford it. And where would you girls go? But I'm rambling again. Anyways, my visits became more frequent and Aoi introduced Takumi as his friend and his boss. He would visit sometimes here, too, on his own time—I guess he grew fond of me as well. The past year though, he had been rather busy—what with him dropping off school. Two nights ago was the first time in a while that we talked and he asked me to have tea with him. Then he told me the strangest story…about bumping into a girl who asked to run off with him. Asked him specifically to take her virginity, and he did—he made love with her. And how that night has changed him. He told me this girl was our Misa-chan, and that now that he has found her, he meant to keep her. Isn't that romantic?"

The younger woman rolled her eyes. "So—what did you tell him?"

"Well, to be honest, I really had no problem with it. Misa-chan is already family to me—but this is not her world. Every client she takes seems to destroy her. I want the best for her, I do. And yet when Takumi-san asked me, I told him that he better talk to Misa-chan about it. It is her life after all—and she should decide what she wants to do."

Honoka remained silent, contemplative and lit another cigarette. The smoke didn't seem to bother Satsuki. "And so…that's Aoi's connection with the Walkers. And Misaki's connection with Aoi puts it all in a strange circle. I've been wondering it was destiny that brought them all together. I have a feeling those two are meant to be."

"C'mon, Satsuki-san," scoffed the blonde. "Aren't you too old to believe that nonsense?"

Unoffended, Satsuki poured out the tea she had also prepared with the cakes. "But I do. This world—no matter how convoluted it gets, there's always a sort of magic to it. There's an old adage—if you wish hard enough for it, the universe will conspire to bring it to you. I believe those two, unconsciously, have wanted to be together even apart. And that desire has brought them together."

Sipping her tea, she murmured. "Isn't that sweet?"

Shaking her head, Honoka said. "Well, we have a problem in our hands. The client I swung Ayuzawa's way—"

"Yes…Igarashi-san. Well. He will have to find someone else. And if he doesn't like that, there are always other establishments around."

Taking a slow drag, Honoka gritted her teeth. "Yes. Let's hope it's just that simple."

oooOOOooo

"…and that's what happened." Aoi winced when he finally moved; he had been sitting too long in that position in the tatami floors. Usui had taken the car to buy dinner, leaving Aoi and Misaki in her house. Suzuna had left a note, saying she was at the hospital. They used this time to talk about the things that had happened the past few days: the collapse of Mrs. Ayuzawa, the ICU transfer and the urgency of surgery. At her insistence, Aoi told her his connection with the Usui and the Walker family—and the later discovery and inevitable interrogation by Usui. The whole time, Misaki was silent, digesting all of this new information.

"This is really…weird."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean—all these damn coincidences. You'd think we're in a shoujo manga!" This earned a small smile from Ayuzawa. More seriously now, he leaned forward. "You found a doctor for your mother yet, Misa-chan?"

"No—not yet. But there's hope," she looked up at him, determined, as the offer of Dr. Miyazono rang in her mind. "Please—I'm all right. There's no need to worry."

"But the money—"

"I asked your aunt to give me an upgrade. In fact, I just started last night."

The expression on Aoi's face darkened. "Those men are fetishists. They aren't safe."

"I have to try, Aoi."

"Misaki—stop it. I'm worried for you. And boss—Usui-san—doesn't like it."

She shook her head obstinately. "He doesn't have to like it. It's my choice. I have a family to feed—a mother in the hospital. Bills to pay for."

Aoi was starting to get irritated by her bullishness. "Misa-chan—why don't you let me help you?"

"No, absolutely not. You've been saving money for your business. If I borrow your money, I won't be able to pay it. We both know that. I'm not up for charity—you have a life, too. I won't drag you into this."

They held a staring contest. After a full minute, Aoi raised his hands in defeat. "All right. You're so bullish. I just wanted to help."

"I'm not asking for it, I'm okay."

"If your definition of okay is the sorry state I saw you in last night then you better get that brain checked…Kaichou."

Usui has returned. From the look on his face, he heard parts of the conversation. "Just how long have you been eavesdropping?"

"Long enough." This got Misaki's back up and she sneered up at him.

Okay…time for my exit. "Well, I got to get going—I have a date. Haha. Bye Misa—bye, boss."

Neither paid him any attention as he hurriedly left. The hand holding the plastic of takeout food clenched.

"So you're planning to go back."

Holding her chin up, she challenged him. "Yes."

Very slowly, he placed the plastic on the wooden table between them. He crossed the space and squatted in front of her. His face was too near—his eyes glittering almost madly at her. She took a shuddering breath at the awareness that they were very much alone in the small house. Then, he pulled out a slip of paper from his breast pocket.

"1.5 million yen."

She sharply took a breath; it was a cheque. "What?"

"An advance. Starting tonight, you'll be working for me. Clean the house, cook my meals—breakfast, lunch and dinner. If you want to redecorate my place, fine so long as you run it by me first. You'll be staying at my unit."

Flabbergasted, Misaki stared at him. "You're insane."

"I assure you, I'm not."

Pushing off the floor, she paced, trying to ignore the damning cheque he had placed in the desk. "First of all, I can't leave my sister alone here."

"You'll be given the weekend off to visit her. She'll be provided for. And I'm pretty sure she is a self-sufficient girl." Not to mention the weekly budget he was planning to send in Suzuna's way.

"That money is too much—that is no servant's salary."

"Salary can be arbitrary."

"This is charity—I won't accept it."

"It isn't. I'm asking you to work for me. It's a perfectly legitimate job. Don't argue, damn it. If you care for your mom, you'd take this and push that damn pride of yours aside."

That point stung. Torn, she twisted the hem of her uniform. Tempting. It was too tempting. And yet…

"I-I still have to talk to my boss."

He stood up, towering over her. His hands circled on her wrists, the grip firm enough to prevent her escape. "I've talked to Satsuki-san. God knows she was happy for you. Don't resist this. Can't you be happy for you?"

God, his eyes are like the ocean…and it's swallowing me whole.

Usui watched the defiance in her eyes die.

You're mine, Ayuzawa Misaki. And I'm not letting you go back there.

Her eyes darted once at the cheque and back to him. The promise of sincerity was there. This was no ruse for him to take advantage of her. He truly seemed to want to help her…and her mother…

Her mother.

But why? What will he be gaining from all of this?

"Why are you doing this? Why do you keep helping me?" she persisted.

Still looking at her, he pressed his lips to her wrist, feeling her pulse quicken.

You know why.

"Will you be my maid, Misaki?"

She could no longer say no.

oooOOOooo

End of chapter! Review please. I'd like to hear your insights.