"Yeah, I'm a pervert. But I'm not playing games."
There were some things Misaki told herself never to do for money. Prostitution was number one.
“Does the president need my help?”
Asking Usui was number two. She never imagined herself cornering him n a classroom after hours, but the school was in desperate straits. Looking at him straight in the eye while blushing furiously, she nodded. “I know you’re not what you seem. You go here even though you’re well off enough to own half the city if you wanted.”
He leaned forward against his desk and examined his nails. Such a feminine act would ridicule any other man, but not Usui. “Why does it concern the president? You’ll be graduating this year, anyway.”
“Seika High is still my school. And yours.” Misaki hoped to appeal to that part of him that appreciated her nobler side for some reason. She’d learned Usui’s caprice only submitted to his sense of justice. His eyes lost some of their playfulness, replaced by contemplation. She tried not to stare too long; she dealt with his teasing by putting on ignorance or calling him out if she was annoyed. His rare moments of lucidity and seriousness never failed to confuse and fascinate her, and confusion and fascination don’t make good politics.
“That’s true. And I don’t want my last days here with you to be spent with you being mad at me.” He sighed, feigning reluctance. “All right, then. I’ll make sure Seika doesn’t make any cuts it doesn’t want to.”
He stood up and grinned at her. Relief flooded her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, Usui.” She turned to the door, more to stop looking at him than for any other reason. “Believe me, no one is sorrier than me that it’s come to this. Your donation will be tax-deductible.”
She took a step toward the door when his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Taxes?” She turned around. Usui had stood up and pushed his chair back. “I don’t care about taxes. Come on, Misa-chan, you can do better than that.”
His smile told her he was teasing again. She tried to shake her wrist loose, but his grip was firm. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want.” He tugged her forward and spun her so that her back was to the desk, still grinning the entire time.
Misaki’s face burned. Seeing that her hands were now free, she shoved him back, not with much force, but enough to tell him she wasn’t in the mood for joking. “Quit it!”
He fell back, as she expected. “You’re right. It just won’t be the same without that maid outfit.”
To Misaki’s dismay, Usui was between her and the door. “Pervert! Now’s not the time for your idiotic games.”
“Yeah, I’m a pervert.” She tried to brush by him, but this time it was his voice that caught her. “But I’m not playing games.”
Usui took his bag and walked briskly out the door but stopped to turn back to her, his smile now dangerously handsome. “I would walk you home, Misa-chan, but I’ve business. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It was only until she could no longer hear his footsteps when Misaki allowed herself to breathe again. After closing the windows and locking the classroom door, she realized that there was no school the next day.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kaichou Wa Maid-sama, and no copyright infringement is intended.