Hello! I apologise for the extremely long wait but I'm back with another chapter. Thanks to everyone who took part in the poll. I'm doing my best with a 'Walking amongst the butterflies' sequel but since this came second I thought I would update this first.

Chapter nine

- Homing instincts -

XX

"Are you going to work today, Haruhiko-san?" Misaki asked, as Haruhiko stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing his briefcase and a piece of toast at the same time. He almost wanted to laugh at the sight of Haruhiko, a grown man in a business suit, replaying the antics one would normally associate with a high school student late for his first class.

"I have to," his words were muffled by the toast as he busied his hands with adjusting the collar of his suit.

"Have a good trip," Misaki smiled.

"...I'm off," Haruhiko replied, somewhat awkwardly. He had obviously never been in the position to go through the normal conventions of greeting and saying goodbye before.

"Oh, Haruhiko-san!" Misaki caught him just as he stepped outside. He tentatively held up a small box wrapped up in a blue cloth. "Lunch," he explained sheepishly, feeling much like an obedient housewife bidding her husband farewell.

Haruhiko stared at it as if he did not know what it was. For a moment, Misaki feared that his carefully prepared meal would be rejected but, at length, he lifted his hands to accept it, holding it was though he had received the holy grail of gifts. "...Thank you," Haruhiko murmured, somewhat stupefied.

It took Misaki all his might not to blush with pleasure. Surely if Haruhiko knew what a sincere expression he was wearing at the moment, he would do his best not just to wipe it from his face but from the very surface of the earth.

Hardly five minutes had passed since Haruhiko's departure – Misaki had no classes and was about to tackle the dirty dishes – when the doorbell rang again. Expecting it to be Haruhiko, who had probably forgotten something important at home, Misaki opened the door all the way.

Only to see Isaka's cheerful grin.

"Hey there!" the man waved at him. For once Asahina was not accompanying him. It was rather odd to see the man alone, Misaki had grown so used to seeing the two together that he had unwittingly begun thinking of Isaka's assistant as some sort of shadow. A smarter, much more reasonable shadow.

"I – Isaka-san?" Misaki blinked in surprise. "What are you here for? Haruhiko-san just left - "

"How about a drive?" Isaka interrupted him.

This only served to confuse Misaki further. A drive? But if he had not come for Haruhiko then that meant that he wanted to go for a drive with...him? "With me? Where? What for?"

"So many questions! Young people sure are inquisitive these days, aren't they?" Isaka laughed. "Actually, I just wanted to see if I was still winning."

Misaki's inquisitiveness was replaced with discontent. Ah, the game. The stupid game. If this were sports, he would be approximately losing three-nil by now.

"This really is a game to you, Isaka-san," he muttered, eyeing the man somewhat sceptically.

Ignoring Misaki's cynical comment, Isaka took the liberty of glancing at the exterior of the house. It was still new and the brick work had not yet seen the worst of weather, neither had the paint begun to peel or fade. He whistled under his breath.

"So how is life with the infamous Haruhiko-san? As unbearable as life with the great Usami-sensei?"

Though he knew Isaka was only half serious, Misaki opened his mouth to defend both of the brothers but he was not sure which one to defend first, therefore he settled for muttering somewhat indignantly; "If Isaka-san is going to tease me, I have chores to do."

"Haruhiko can't cook worth a damn either," the man continued.

"Have you seen Usagi-san lately?" Misaki suddenly asked. The abruptness of his question had been incited by a sudden flood of memories; all including some sort of accident in the kitchen whenever Akihiko tried to cook. He wondered somewhat guiltily how the man was faring now. He hoped that he was eating properly at least.

"Worried about him?" Isaka read his mind.

"A - A little," he embarrassingly admitted.

"Tell you what; I'll take you somewhere nice to forget about your troubles. My treat!" Isaka offered a small smile that could have fooled the devil.

Misaki, however, being well versed in 'The Ways of Isaka', frowned apprehensively at his offer. "No offense, Isaka-san, but when you're this nice, it's sort of suspicious."

Yet despite Misaki absolute assurance that Isaka was probably planning to do more than just 'treat him' he somehow found himself bundled up into the back seat of the man's car as Isaka hummed whilst he drove. Why could he never say no to anyone?

Misaki ran a finger along the strap of the seatbelt. He had been in Isaka's car only a few times before and neither of those occasions had been pleasant. In fact, the very first time he had been given a ride in the car was because –

It was because -

"Misaki! The phone's ringing!"

XX

"I'll get it!" Misaki cried, making a straight dash for the phone. Picking it up, a crashing wave of relief swept over him. Thank God he had been the one to pick it up. If it had been Akihik...well, he just did not want to deal with an angry Akihiko any more than necessary.

Misaki sighed at the sound of that familiar voice; that blunt, monotone voice that so often incited awkwardness, that clumsy voice which expression clumsy emotions like a child who did not know how to say what he meant.

"Haruhiko-san," he whispered, checking the bottom floor for signs of Akihiko.

"You haven't been visiting me lately. I thought that perhaps something was wrong," Haruhiko's voice on the other end sounded almost accusatory.

Misaki frowned with confusion. "No, nothing really. Why? Is there something wrong?"

"It's Akihiko, isn't it?"

His frown deepened.

"I don't want to hurt him," he said with a directness that could almost rival the great Usamis.

"Why?" Haruhiko asked brusquely.

"How can you ask me that?" Misaki almost cried but, remembering that Akihiko was in and not wanting to attract any attention, he settled for a low hiss.

"So, in order not to hurt him, you'll hurt yourself. You'll compromise your freedom for him?"

"I didn't think you felt so strongly about it," he said, slightly annoyed that everyone was insinuating that being anywhere near Akihiko was bound to be a burden. If he had not liked it he could have left ages ago...couldn't he?

"Same to you," Haruhiko paused. There was such silence that for a moment Misaki thought the line had cut out, then; "...I want to see you," he said awkwardly, unused to thinking such things, much less saying them.

"What?"

"Can't you come to see me?" Haruhiko asked. Maybe it was simply a bad signal but he sounded almost... imploring. Ah, but that was impossible, Misaki shook his head of such thoughts. Haruhiko did not have to go to such lengths. Haruhiko always asked for everything in blunt monotone.

"That's..." Misaki fumbled for an appropriate excuse; one which was plausible and would not offend either of them. "I can't, I - "

"I'll send Isaka around. He owes me a favour. You can pretend you're doing part time work for the agency again."

"Eh? No, wait, Haruhiko-san! Haru - "

It was no good protesting. Haruhiko had already hung up. Miskai wanted to groan in frustration. Why did Usami's just do whatever the hell they wanted? Was it a genetic trait?

Calming down somewhat, he turned to look at the closed door where Akihiko had shut himself up to do his work.

Isaka was coming around soon.

XX

Misaki was shaken from his reminiscence when the car pulled over on a fairly busy street.

Isaka led him into a small bar almost hidden between two far larger and more imposing clothes boutiques. The bar had the air or tiny tavern straight out of some cheap fantasy film. The glasses were tinted to prevent spying and, upon seeing the interior, Misaki noticed that both the walls and floors were rough timber, without a lick of paint or even a good varnishing. It was as if someone had tied tree trunks together and left it at that.

"I'm underage," he recoiled at the sharp stench of ale.

"There are other things you can buy besides alcohol," Isaka strolled in, laughing at his foolishness. Reluctantly, Misaki followed him to a table.

In reality, the bar was not as shady as he had first assumed. Misaki supposed that the bar was left in such a raw state to attract customers who licked the novelty of it. The alcohol was strong but the dim lights cast a warm glow and the quiet murmur of voices was quite pleasant to listen to.

Sinking warmly into his cushioned chair, Misaki decided he had probably judged Isaka too harshly. As awkward as he could be some times, he was sure that the man must be rather generous to go to such lengths for him. He had even allowed him to spend the night after –

He shook his head. Actually, he did not want to think about that. If he did, he would remember Akihiko and Isaka's ridiculous game, and then he would be back to suspecting Isaka of foul play.

"Thank you, Isaka-san," he managed to say despite his thoughts. "You're trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"

"Nope, not at all," Isaka replied with cheerful bluntness. Misaki was two inches close to slamming his own head against the table.

"You don't have to disagree that bluntly!"

Isaka laughed. "Like I said, Haruhiko's my friend, and as hard-headed and stubborn as he is I'm cheering for his happiness."

"More than Usagi-san's?" Misaki asked, surprised. Isaka might be Haruhiko's friend but he was also Akihiko's editor. In fact, Misaki could distinctly remember Isaka once telling him that he would do anything to make sure Akihiko's work was not affected.

Isaka was slightly taken aback at this. He had obviously not been expecting suh a question. He smiled, though his laughter becoming slightly nervous. "Don't ask me difficult questions," he said and rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Restroom. Want to come with me?" Isaka jokingly offered.

"No thank you!" he snapped at Isaka's retreating back.

Misaki counted exactly five minutes and thirty seconds since Isaka had gone. Honestly, how long could someone take in the bathroom? He was just about to wonder if Isaka had actually slipped out of a window and left him with the bill of one beer and a soda when a thin shadow was cast over him.

He looked up, surprised, if not astounded, to see Natsuko, whose glamorous figure really did not suit such a dimly lit bar, staring down at him.

"Oh? Misaki-kun!"

At least she remembered his name this time.

"Oh, so you're not here with Akihiko?" Natsuko did not wait to be invited before she took a seat at his table, signalling a bartender to bring her cocktail to her current table.

"What are you doing here, Natsuko-san?" Misaki smiled, attempting to make polite conversation. What Haruhiko had told him about his family still had not left him but he could not help feeling just a little sorry for Natsuko as well. It seemed everyone had somehow gotten the short end if the stick in their whole, messed up, family affair.

"I was looking for a man," Natsuko slurred, looking at Misaki a little too demurely for his liking. "Finding a good man is hard."

"B – But you're married, Natsuko-san," Misaki tried to remind her.

"In name only," she spat. "That man doesn't love me! He still loves that dead woman – Haruhiko's mother. Even when he knows that I play around with all sorts of men, he doesn't give a damn. I'd even say he feels relieved about it!"

Misaki looked at her sympathetically. "Have you talked to Fuyuhiko-san about it?" he asked.

Natsuko snorted. "What would I say? Darling, I know we've been married for many years now but tell me, honestly, you still love that corpse of a woman lying ten feet under, don't you?"

"But – but if you don't say anything they how will anyone know that you're upset?" he tried to reason with her, though he feared that his words were simply bouncing off of the barrier of her intoxicated mind.

"I spent all that time chasing after him so that he would love me, or at least acknowledge me..."

"Are you drunk?"

"I even neglected my own son in my wild attempts to get him to look at me," she continued, siking her head into her arms like a sleepy child. This impression was only enhanced by effects of alcohol brought, which made her cheeks glow red. "Then, before I knew it, Akihiko was already grown up. A useless human being just like his mama," she smiled somewhat bitterly.

"Natsuko-san..." Misaki was unsure of what to say. "I...I'll look after Usagi-san. Please don't worry about it, I will look after Usagi-san so for you!"

"Idiot!" Natsuko was suddenly revived again. "Do you think you can do everything alone? I bet you're the type who never asks anyone for anything!"

Misaki jumped back in fear. The Usamis were a scary family! Yet, in truth, he was glad that Natuko had not taken him too seriously. He had left Akihiko after all. How could he help someone he had already once abandoned?

He winced at his own thoughts and yet...yet he still wanted to do something for Akihiko. He hated thinking that he might have possibly hurt the man, or that he had burdened him by leaving. Who would cook and clean? Who would make sure he met his deadlines?

Although his thoughts were interrupted by the reappearance of Isaka and, curiously, Asahina too – when had that man come in? – Misaki wondered if just a small, brief visit to the old penthouse would do any harm.

Once again, apologies for the long wait. I'm glad to have such patient reviewers!