March to August, Spring to Autumn: A Junjō Romantica one-shot that kind of just happened (no one knows why it happened). Let's just get this over with, shall we? This was originally written at some point during my Christmas and New Years break, when I was really supposed to be dealing with coursework. It kind of figures that I'd decide to edit it in order to escape working on my next major assignment, doesn't it? Oh well.

Notes: Marimo is a type of ball-shaped algae. Usagi means rabbit. Unagi means eel (this is also Takahashi Mahiro's take on Usami's name). -sensei is a honorific used for teachers, doctors, authors. -senpai is a honorific used for upperclassmen, older colleagues. Oh yeah, and Misaki is, physically speaking, a girl in this (I have no idea why. It kind of just happened...).

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Yeah, this probably isn't going to work. Misaki is perfectly willing to bet that the man seated across from her ‒ the renowned author Usami Akihiko ‒ is thinking the exact same thing. It probably isn't going to work, and they both know as much. They've got to make it work somehow though ‒ they're both perfectly aware of this as well.

How did it end up like this? One might as well start from the beginning.

Ten years prior, the lives of the four members of the Takahashi family had taken a turn for the worst. A car crash had abruptly ended the lives of two, leaving the oldest out of those remaining with the task of picking up the pieces of what still remained.

The oldest was Takahashi Takahiro; just months shy of entering the prestigious Mitsuhashi University.

The youngest was Takahashi Misaki, a girl with a girly name who took great pleasure in acting and dressing in a manner that had most people mistaking her for a boy. She had decided fairly early on after all, that she would rather be a brat than a princess.

Back in those days, she hadn't quite been able to put her finger on what had made her different from most of the other kids in the neighbourhood. Her parents had liked joking about her tomboyish tendencies, figuring that she acted the way that she did out of admiration for Takahiro. In hindsight, they weren't wrong. They weren't right either though.

In hindsight, Misaki had realised that she wasn't much of an all-or-nothing person as far as gender was concerned. Just because she had been born with what people deemed girly parts didn't mean that she herself felt any need to act out the part 24/7, especially not since she actually felt way more comfortable as Misaki the boy, Takahiro's little brother.

Naturally, Takahiro ‒ who remained painfully oblivious about a whole lot of things ‒ didn't get it, even after she'd tried explaining things to him after getting in trouble with the dress code in high school. It wasn't as though Takahiro opposed it or anything; he simply didn't grasp the concept and simply accepted it as yet another development of Misaki's tomboyish persona, just as Misaki simply accepted Takahiro's lack of understanding for what it was. Then again, Misaki could hardly fault Takahiro for not understanding, considering the fact that she herself wasn't a hundred percent certain about what to call herself. Having pondered the matter and having failed to arrive at a decent conclusion, she settled for calling herself Misaki. It was accurate enough, for her at any rate.

Then again, the issues of gender identity hardly holds much relevance for her current predicament, seated across from the Usami Akihiko in said man's obscenely large apartment. The only common denominator between the two of them is the connection that they share with one man, Takahashi Takahiro, and their equal unwillingness to betray his expectations.

To Usami Akihiko-sensei, it's because he's his best friend.

To Misaki, it's because he's her brother.

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As far as first impressions go, things could probably have gone a whole lot better. Then again, returning home to see a tall stranger hugging her brother in a seemingly platonic yet at the same time decidedly intimate manner, Misaki's first reaction is to freeze ‒ not literally, but rather like a deer caught in the gaze of a predator ‒ No, it is more like a housecat that has caught the attention of a huge bear. Later on, when they are seated across from one another, Misaki on one side and Usami-sensei on the other next to a ridiculously huge, bowtie-wearing teddy bear called Suzuki-san, she will remember and ponder the irony of the simile.

"I'm back."

As ever, even when held in the arms of a seriously tall dude, Takahiro greets her kindly. "Misaki, welcome back. Come on, Usagi, let go already."

Usagi. Hearing the word is all that she really needs in order to piece together the identity of the seriously tall dude still hugging her older brother, because it's not just anyone; it's the Usami Akihiko-sensei. "Your little sister, Takahiro?"

Takahiro finally untangles himself; not a second too early, in Misaki's private opinion. "Yeah. Misaki, this is my friend, Usami Akihiko."

She already knows as much, but she nods politely nonetheless. The prominent author hardly returns the favour though, opting for a sneer disguised as polite amusement. "Hoh? Doesn't look a thing like you."

She doesn't look a thing like Takahiro ‒ not much at any rate. At the moment, she hardly looks much like a girl either, wearing Takahiro's castoffs. There's the hair as well. It's short but not too short; just the right length and tousled up with hair gel. The comparison isn't what pisses her off; it's the attitude.

All in all, it isn't a very good first impression. It's not the absolute worst that could've been, but it's still far from the ideal. After such a lousy first impression, Misaki ponders the irony of it all as she later on stands outside that smug bastard's door, bearing leftovers from the previous night's dinner.

Nothing happens when she rings the doorbell. With a sigh, she shifts her burden and enters the security code, gaining admittance.

The apartment is just as ridiculously spacious as she had imagined, just as she had expected. Misaki feels ridiculously out of place ‒ like some home intruder ‒ surveying the immediate area for signs of movement before zeroing in on a note laid out on the table on top of a pile of books. Quietly, she reads it. "I'm sleeping, so please help yourself to the manuscript. So, he is here then?"

She puts the note back, taking in the titles of the books on the table. "So, he's the guy who wrote this?"

She's seen it around, but she hasn't read it. Having met the person behind it, she probably won't.

Shrugging inwardly, Misaki picks up another book, staring critically at the cover. "Akikawa Yayoi? Different penname, huh?"

Limited experience aside, the cover art looks decidedly suspicious. Moments later, it occurs to her that she's holding a BL novel in her hand. It's a strange but novel experience, and it gets stranger still when she opens it up at a random page and finds that one of the characters involved in the action is named after her older brother. Surprisingly, she doesn't get angry. If anything, then she's in a state of exasperated disbelief. It's simply too outlandish to even imagine such a thing, so she dismisses the matter altogether and starts checking out the fridge.

There are no decent groceries whatsoever, making her wonder what the smug bastard could possibly be surviving on. Then again, considering everything, the smug bastard probably ate out or ordered takeout; he could certainly afford it after all. Damn rich people. Oh well, at least they've got decent coffee beans; it's something at least.

Apparently, her coffee-making skills have the ability to raise the dead, or at least authors that look like death warmed over. Whether it's due to the influx of caffeine or a renewed dose of nicotine, a reanimated Usami-sensei now sits across from her, smoking. She resists the urge to wrinkle her nose at it all, harbouring great dislike for people who persist in smoking indoors. Honestly, are they trying to kill themselves off with lung cancer even quicker through inhaling both the active and the passive smoke? Misaki is curious but lets the matter slide, opting to focus more on deepening her understanding of the man gazing lazily at her from across the couch table which has now been cleared save for the two cups of freshly brewed coffee placed upon it.

What she hears is surprising, yet also not very surprising.

"I've always dreamt of living in a regular middle-class family. I've been trying to recreate what normal kids normally do in their childhood, so I started collecting various things, mostly toys, and it ended up like that."

She already knows as much, even without having investigated the upstairs. The sheer number of toys is as ridiculous as ‒ perhaps even more ridiculous than ‒ the sheer size of the place.

"By the way, this guy is Suzuki-san."

Mr. Suzuki is a ridiculously large teddy bear seated at Usami-sensei's left.

Usami-sensei's wearing a tie.

The bear's wearing a spotted bowtie.

Takahashi Misaki's wearing a look of disinterest, pondering the abnormality of it all as the other finally puts out their cigarette. Then again, strangely enough, things are starting to make a bit more sense now that she has been able to observe the Usami Akihiko in his natural habitat.

"Ah, I get it. You're a typical rich kid after all. It's like this, isn't it: Your father neglected his family, your mother abandoned child-caring and devoted herself to her hobbies. Raised in a family that only pretended to get along, you were on bad terms with even your brother, and grew up alone. No one around you understood how you felt, so you acted like a delinquent in order to rebel, but you were really just lonely. But you did have a red sports car and a long-haired dog named Alexander."

Yeah, as if that'd ever be tr‒ "How did you know?"

Misaki picks up her own cup of coffee, taking a few sips whilst considering the man across from her, studying their face for signs of deceit. There are none. Oh well. She puts the coffee back down. "I can explain your sexual orientation too. Your mother brought home a lover, and you ended up seeing them together and got traumatised. Ever since, you've lost all desire for women. Then, you had a tutor who was kind and like an older brother to you and who messed around with you for a bit, making you realise that you were gay."

Usami-sensei takes a few sips himself before answering. "If that came out now, the newspapers would have a heyday."

"Seriously?"

They exchange an exasperated look. Yeah, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that this probably isn't going to work. They've got to make it work somehow though ‒ for Takahiro's sake.

Usami-sensei lights another cigarette. Misaki averts her eyes from the spectacle.

"Okay, so which university are you aiming for?" the renowned author finally asks, getting down to business and not a minute too soon.

"Mitsuhashi."

He asks her if she's lucid. She snaps at him. "The hell?! God, everything you say pisses me off! You don't know until you try!"

The condescending bastard brings up her scores on the trial exam. Accurate or not, the comments definitely sting. "Lower your standards. Every school's got an economics department."

Misaki determinedly tells him she's set on Mitsuhashi; that she's got to go there, for Takahiro's sake as well.

This earns her a look of mild surprise. "Why do you bring up Takahiro?"

Slumping in her posture, she talks about how Takahiro gave up his shot at a higher education to raise her after the death of their parents. For whichever reason, the author's attitude does a 180 turn. Really, it ought to have tipped her off.

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After a number of tutoring sessions, Misaki finds herself seated at a desk at Usagi-sensei's place, listening to Usagi-sensei gloating about her latest improvements. "Takahiro will be thrilled for sure. I want to get you to pass and see him smile!"

It's a spinning chair, so Misaki spins it slightly to glance at Usagi-sensei, affirming that the man is indeed sitting down, smiling softly down at the score sheet. She returns to her studies, penning down a few notes. "Do you really love him that much?"

"What's this all of a sudden?"

All of a sudden? Hah. Misaki struggles to keep a neutral expression, back facing him or not. "I'm asking if you love him…"

"You don't have to be worried," Usagi-sensei reassures her. "It's completely one-sided."

No shit, Sherlock.

Misaki finally spins the chair around fully, leaning an elbow against the writing desk as she contemplates the man who has just confessed his love for her painfully oblivious brother. "But you do know that he's got a girlfriend, right?"

There's little surprise, if any. "Yeah, I know."

Usagi-sensei looks at the test scores one more time and then puts them aside. "It's the privilege of friends to be able to stay beside those they love."

Misaki tilts her head slightly to one side, studying the man. "If you really love him, then you should just shove the girlfriend out of the picture and make yourself his number one."

Usagi-sensei scoffs. "You really are young. He means the world to me. I don't want him to hate me."

Misaki spins the chair back so that she once again faces her desk, her back now turned. "Idiot," she mutters under her breath. "It's only gonna hurt that way…"

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It does hurt, because Takahiro is an oblivious and insensitive idiot who couldn't read the atmosphere even with reading glasses. It does hurt, mostly because they had been so happy before Takahiro had dropped the bomb on them. Honestly.

Misaki's latest results leave her in awe; a very dramatic improvement in such a short time. Strangely, the first thing that comes to mind is heading to see Usagi ‒ he's an acquaintance now, not just some tutor ‒ and nearly even acts upon the thought before stopping abruptly, stumped by her own reaction. "Wait, why am I getting excited? What's up with this cheerful dash into the sunset? I should tell my brother first…"

She feels her cheeks heating up, slapping herself twice in order to discard the utterly ridiculous notion. "No, it's not true. I don't like men!"

Actually, she likes men ‒ just not in the romantic sense. Romantically, she's more into girls… she thinks? At least that's all that she's been crushing on so far. Then again‒

"Misaki? What are you doing?"

She startles. "Usagi-sensei," she says, recovering her bearings. "You look like you're in a good mood."

He looks to be in a very good mood; a very, very good mood. "Well, it's good that we ran into each other. Let's go home together." Usagi holds up a package for her to take. "I brought cake."

Wordlessly and decidedly puzzled, she receives it.

"Today's Takahiro's birthday!" Oh? "Look like you'd forgotten." Oh.

She neither confirms nor denies the allegation, balancing box containing the cake as she fishes out her score sheet, handing it over. "I got this today."

Moments thereafter, there's a large hand making a huge mess out of her hairstyle. "What are you doing?!" she snaps, feeling her cheeks heating up again ‒ due to embarrassment, no doubt.

"Good job!"

The hand finally retreats, finally. The blood in her cheeks however does not, annoyingly enough. Misaki feels her heart pounding, even though she's telling it to stop. It has no actual reason to pound like that, because she isn't angry and Usagi's only bothering with her because it'll make Takahiro happy. Besides, what else is to be expected? She already knows far more than she would actually prefer about Usagi's fantasies. Ugh.

As they head home together, Misaki makes an effort not to think about it.

Watching Usagi give Takahiro an expensive present, she makes an effort to think more about the feast and less about the way in which Usagi talks Takahiro into accepting said present ‒ a wristwatch ‒ saying stuff like "One luxury item a year won't kill you" and whatnot. Misaki also makes an effort not to smack something ‒ her own forehead or her brother ‒ as the ever clueless Takahiro goes "Thank you so much, Usagi!" before launching right ahead with announcing his engagement. Oh, that clueless little‒

Both then and in hindsight, Misaki is surprised at her relative composure ‒ that is to say that she manages to restrain herself from slapping Takahiro in the face right then and there. She's also surprised at Usagi's quick recovery of composure, going from stunned shock and surprise to enthusiastic within a matter of seconds. "That's great! You finally did it, Takahiro!"

Now, Misaki finds herself experiencing this sudden urge to hit them both, to slap and to punch them right in the jaw with a well-aimed uppercut whilst yelling at the man ‒ at both of them ‒ for being such idiots, wittingly and unwittingly. Forcing herself to remain calm, she looks for a way out of the situation that doesn't end with her anger not only overflowing but also igniting and exploding like overheated cooking oil. "Champaign," she finally grits out. "We need more."

And with that, she turns on her heels, grabbing the idiot author by the sleeve and dragging him along, ignoring Takahiro's confused "Misaki?" as she slams the door behind them.

Minutes later, she's down on the street, still trying to recover her composure along with her breath, using a nearby lamppost for support. It's cold out, so her breath is like a white cloud in the air, but even if the temperature's definitely dropping, it does little to soothe the distinct hurt within her as she turns back around. "I'm sorry."

Usami Akihiko's just standing there, annoyingly composed about it all. "Why are you apologising?"

She draws another breath, cold air burning in her lungs, and then exhales, renewing the cloud. "It's just so…" is all that she manages before her eyes decide to start leaking; damn eyes! "You've been in love with him for so long. You've always cared for him, and‒He wanted to introduce her to you first?!"

She rubs furiously at her eyes. "So tactless! I want to punch him!"

Usami Akihiko remains annoyingly impassive. Then, he smiles. "What an ugly way of crying."

"I'm crying because of you!" Misaki snaps, glaring. "I haven't cried for years and now I can't stop!"

He steps up to her. "I see."

Moments later, the second major shock of the night arrives as Usami Akihiko pulls her close and kisses her. For once in her life, Misaki's too shocked to say anything, mind going completely blank for a whole second. In the next, she becomes incredibly aware of the arm snaked around her waist and of the fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head upwards to stare dumbly at a smug-looking Akihiko. "You've stopped."

Her heart and her mind did, for a moment or two, but now, they're both up and running haywire.

"Sorry, just for a little while, lend me your shoulder."

She doesn't protest against it, even as she feels her cheeks heating back up. It's embarrassing to lose composure like that, and to be standing with a man who'd been madly in love with her brother, kissed her and was now lending her shoulder. For a fraction of a second, she wonders what Takahiro would say if he saw them like this. Takahiro. Misaki feels her eyes and throat burning again, so she quickly discards the thought. "Usagi-san, if you want to, you can cry."

Snow starts falling as the arms around her tighten. It's highly out of character for her, but she finds herself hugging back, even as she feels gross wetness against the side of her throat.

"Idiot, you're too young to patronise me. I've never cried in front of anyone else since the day I was born… not before you."

Misaki can't recall having cried in front of anyone other than Takahiro for the last ten years. She'd thought that was a long time, but as usual, Usami Akihiko has her beat.

"As if I'd let anyone else see me like this…"

It's strangely surreal, standing out there in the cold, weighed down by an adult and with the mildly gross feeling of hot tears against the side of her throat, surrounded by the softly falling snow. She catches herself thinking "If only I could stay with him forever and become someone special to him" or something equally cliché, making her want to slap herself in the face.

The weather doesn't care though, and they return to the feast with renewed composure and additional alcohol. A short while after the event, Takahiro abruptly gets transferred to Osaka and Misaki accepts Usami Akihiko's offer to freeload until she can find a place of her own.

Misaki gets accepted into Mitsuhashi University.

Akihiko messes up her hair. "You got accepted on the waitlist; save your preening for when you deserve it."

"Shut up! I got in, and that's what matters!"

On occasion, they get along disturbingly well. On other occasions, Akihiko very much fails to comprehend the idea of respecting other people's personal space.

"Hey, hey. How did you tie this? I'll do it for you, so watch closely."

Months prior, Takahashi Misaki would never have imagined having a grown man grabbing her by the hands and tying her tie for her at a very, very close proximity. "Okay."

"Your buttons are one off." Oh?

"You're utterly hopeless. Come on, take it all off." What?!

"I'll do it myself! I just wasn't paying attention! Besides, the entrance ceremony‒"

As usual though, protests generally fall to deaf ears. "Don't worry. It only takes five minutes to Mitsuhashi in my red sports car," Akihiko assures her, pulling her to sit on his lap.

Well aware of the insinuation, Misaki feels herself redden. "W-wait a sec! Are you half-asleep again? I'm not a guy!"

"Consider it a great honour..." Usami Akihiko, self-professed homosexual and annoyingly smug-looking bastard, kisses her earlobe. "You don't yet understand how extraordinary it is to have this Usami-sensei fall for you."

Wha‒"I don't even want to understand!"

In hindsight, Misaki figures that her fate had been sealed from the very point in time that she had felt compassion for the pure-hearted romanticist that dwelled beneath all that smugness. Bastard.

On the plus side, Usami Akihiko appears to have moved on from Takahashi Takahiro. On a somewhat less positive note, he appears to have reinvented himself as a Misaki-sexual.

As congratulations for getting accepted into university, Takahiro and his fiancé Nanami send a few pretty dresses and some souvenirs. Misaki appreciates the thought before stashing them safely away for some later event.

Usami Akihiko's present comes as something of a surprise though, as Misaki accepts a delivery one day. It turns out to be a boxful of clothing ‒ really nice clothing ‒ and even a few binders as well.

Misaki absentmindedly wonders if it's okay to start playing favourites.

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Usami Akihiko is an adult, in terms of age at any rate. In certain ‒ professional ‒ aspects, he is very much an adult. Privately on the other hand is another matter altogether. The realisation is gradual, and in hindsight, Misaki wonders why she had not realised earlier on that her makeshift landlord is more than just a bit childish ‒ no, in certain aspects, he is most definitely still a child.

"Make them into octopi. I want to eat sausages shaped like octopi."

Misaki settles for rolling her eyes, but puts in the additional effort nonetheless. If Akihiko wants octopi-shaped sausages, Akihiko gets octopi-shaped sausages, because Misaki knows better than to argue about such small matters with a man who collects teddy bears and has a miniature railway installed in one of the rooms of the apartment ‒ among other things. When it all comes down to it, it's Akihiko's apartment and it's only temporary anyway; it's only until she has earned enough money from her part-time job and found a decent place of her own.

However, Akihiko's childish behaviour is unfortunately not limited to stubbornness. There's jealousy as well, and particularly when other men are concerned.

Sumi Keiichi is her senpai, this really cool and shrewd guy whose company she just so happens to enjoy. Akihiko also happens to vehemently dislike him, telling her not to hang out with him and to be careful; that the guy isn't what he makes himself out to be and whatnot.

Whilst somewhat flattered that Akihiko's concerned about her safety, Misaki figures that Akihiko's probably scared that she'll leave him and move in with Sumi-senpai or something. Yeah, like that's ever going to happen.

"It'll be alright," Misaki assures him, smiling wryly. "I already know he isn't interested in me like that."

The esteemed author sends her a dark and decidedly sceptical look. "How?"

"Because he's obviously gunning for you."

Akihiko looks like someone has just struck him in the face with a dead fish. Misaki snaps a picture of it with her cell phone camera.

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Akihiko's claim to being Misaki-sexual is given new relevance when Misaki starts meeting the other members of the Usami family, one after the other. Perhaps developing an unhealthy obsession with Misaki in general is not necessarily an Akihiko thing but rather an Usami thing. Then again, Misaki supposes that it's less about attraction and more about wanting to upset Akihiko, who had gone against the will of the family to pursue his career. But who really knows; the members of the Usami family aren't particularly known for operating on the basis of common sense after all.

"Look," Misaki finally sighs. "Either you give them a call or you give me their number so that I can tell them to stop sending things."

It had started with strawberries and escalated from there. At this rate, Misaki figures that she'll become overweight and diabetic before reaching twenty-five.

Akihiko gives a noncommittal answer.

Misaki scoffs. "I guess I'll just move in with Sumi-senpai then… or give Ijūin-sensei a call."

Akihiko scowls, but whips out his cell phone nonetheless.

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Despite everything, they make a fairly good team. Despite their individual differences, they make it work, even if people around them tend to say that they bicker like a married couple. Now imagine their surprise when, a few years along the line, Akihiko and recent graduate Misaki send out invites for their wedding reception.

Takahashi Takahiro is surprised by the announcement, surprised but not entirely displeased. Naturally, he's happy about Usagi finding someone at last. There is a bit of concern however, Misaki being his sister and all. "How long has this been going on?" he asks, among other things.

Having anticipated the question beforehand, Misaki makes sure that their statements match. She even lets Akihiko spin some ridiculous tale that it was seeing Misaki in a dress at Takahiro's wedding that had made him question the nature of his feelings.

Misaki herself remains relatively tight-lipped on the matter, knowing well that even Takahiro wouldn't like the actual story. Heck, especially in hindsight, Misaki herself is very critical in regards to bits and pieces of it. As things are though, she and Akihiko have simply spent too much time in each other's company to feel particularly comfortable without it, even if they obviously still have their arguments and differences to work out.

Usami Akihiko's still ridiculously wealthy and even more successful in his writing. He's still spoiled, but he also enjoys spoiling others, Misaki in particular.

Akikawa Yayoi still writes BL novels. Against better judgement, Misaki reads them whenever Akihiko's actually working and she isn't.

Usami Misaki, formerly Takahashi Misaki, works for Marukawa Publishing. As for how she ended up there, it was largely due to the executive director, Ryūichiro Isaka, roping her into a job as a part-time assistant, mostly in regards to dealing with Akihiko. As time went on though, the work had expanded to include other tasks and dealing with other people, authors as well as editors and whatnot. It's over there, at work, that she gradually develops a hypothesis that at least seventy percent of the males that she interacts with on a regular basis is gay or at the very least not straight ‒ according to her gaydar at any rate.

She voices this once to her former literature professor, Kamijō 'The Devil' Hiroki, as she drops by to deliver some books that Akihiko had at some point borrowed and as usual failed to return. Professor Kamijō scoffs but doesn't disagree; he himself is a part of that statistic after all.

She doesn't voice this to Isaka, who's also part of the statistic. So is at least four, eighty percent, of the all-male shōjo manga editors in the Emerald Section. She mentions this to Akihiko once. In return, she learns that the newest addition there, Onodera Ritsu, just so happens to be one of Akihiko's former editors.

It's a small world, it seems. It's a small world of numerous uncanny connections and dubious coincidences. Really, sometimes she wonders if she ought to write a book about it.

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It's definitely a small world, Misaki realises when she catches sight of her boss, Kirishima Zen, with Yokozawa Takafumi from the Sales Department. It's a small world and love is in the air, thick as pollen in spring. It's almost enough to make her sneeze.

Misaki texts Akihiko, asking if he wants to order takeout.

Akihiko texts back, offering to come pick her up.

Despite it all, they make a fairly good team.

Now if only Takahiro would stop badgering them about getting a cousin for Mahiro.

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It starts out small, eventually taking the shape of a rough draft. It remains as such until Ryūichiro Isaka, who has an eerie talent for butting into other people's business, snatches it up and looks at it and then at Misaki herself, eyes wide in surprise. And, in a typical Isaka-like fashion, a simple no isn't really taken into consideration.

Isaka's ecstatic.

Misaki reluctantly accepts taking time off from her regular tasks to work on the manuscript.

Once he learns of it, Akihiko shoots Isaka a death glare.

A decidedly smug-looking Isaka blows him a kiss.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Are you sure about this, debuting and all?"

"What? Are you scared of a little bit of competition?" Misaki snorts, slamming the book ‒ her first published novel ‒ shut.

Akihiko hums, obscenely tall as he bends over to pluck the volume from her hands. "Haruyama Hazuki, is it? Nice touch."

Haruyama Hazuki, her penname. "I like it. Sounds way better than Akikawa Yayoi, methinks."

"Still, complementary, aren't they? Rather like us, don't you think?"

"Contradictory too, methinks."

Haruyama. Spring Mountain.

Akikawa. Autumn River.

"You think?"

Hazuki for August, as in the Month of Leaves.

Yayoi for March, as in New Life.

"Don't you?"

Despite it all, their similarities as well as their differences, they make a good team.

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"Say, do you remember that time when Takahiro had just gotten married and wanted me to come and live with them? To experience real family life and whatnot."

"How could I forget?"

"First you were all 'you should be with family' and whatnot, and once I agreed, you didn't like it."

"But Takahiro was‒"

"Takahiro was and still is an idiot."

"True."

"But you came for me after all in the end."

"Your very own knight in shining armour."

"Hah, what armour?"

"You called me from the train station, making up excuses and crying…"

"Don't remind me."

"You brought it upon yourself, bringing this up again."

"And then you turned up all 'I'm not handing you over to anyone!' and had us running off to catch that train to Hokkaido…"

"That was your birthday present, remember?"

"It was really about you wanting to buy marimo, remember?"

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"I for one do remember when you spun that tale for Takahiro that I'd been clinging and wailing about not wanting to leave you and whatnot."

"Oh?"

"I also vividly remember what first came to mind when I heard you say that."

"Hoh? That you weren't crying?"

"Nope, I vividly remember thinking 'I'll kill him', especially when you got to the part about me not having the strength to become independent."

"But Takahiro bought it, didn't he? I seem to recall that he was extremely touched about how much you'd been thinking about him."

"And then you shook hands over it."

"If the results are good, the methods are irrelevant."

"The ends don't always justify the means, you know?"

"Is that so?"

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"Well, whatever you say, Unagi-sensei."

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And so, they live happily ever after. Sort of. For a while.

"Say, Misaki."

"What is it now?"

"Have you been gaining weight?"

Misaki stills, halfway between snapping and the most horrifying realisation. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Seeing the change in her expression, Akihiko soon thereafter mirrors it. "Me too. But Takahiro will be delighted."

"Why do you bring up Takahiro? Do you really love him that much, you goddamned unagi?"

"You don't have to be worried," he readily reassures her. "It's completely one-sided."

Déjà vu. It's like a goddamned déjà vu. "But you do know that you've got a wife, right?"

"I've got plenty of love. It'll be enough for both of you."

Nausea receding somewhat, Misaki tilts her head slightly to one side, studying the man. "Just remember to spare some love for Haru-chan."

Now, Akihiko is the one looking vaguely ill. "We're not naming them after my brother."

"Kyō-chan then?"

"Never."

"Kei-chan?"

"Over my dead body."

Rising crime novelist Haruyama Hazuki turns to him then, her expression dead serious. "That can be arranged."

The half-hearted murder plot ultimately serves as the foundation for her next novel, which becomes a great commercial success. Even Kamijō-sensei sends his regards, claiming that it had a quite satisfying finale.

To Misaki, it's the highest of endorsements.

To Akihiko, it's an excuse to write vengeful smut.

And so, they live happily ever after. Sort of. For a while. Basically until the other shoe drops.

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"What do you mean it's twins?!"

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And so, they live strangely ever after. All four of them.