The First Of All Pleasures, a gakuen alice fanfic

A/N: I have no excuses for this. -.- Here's the story behind this story - I had a horrific dream in which I was Tono, playing the part of Natsume in this fic, and Rui was playing the part of Mikan. I woke up, decided to write it up because it was quite an interesting idea, and then decided to shift it to Natsume/Mikan, since I think this works better. :P

Dark! You have been warned!

The First Of All Pleasures
Xx

Mikan is dead and Natsume has blood on his hands.

He isn't quite sure where he was. Perhaps he is inside the police station. That would make sense. He remembers the police coming in. He isn't sure who called them. He isn't sure of very much. He is probably in shock.

And he remembers the blood – so much of it, how could he ever forget? She was long gone by the time he had come, cold and still and waxy, like a nightmarish life-size doll. A gash in her neck. Congealed dirty brown stains on the sofa, on the floor, on her face.

He needs to wash his hands.

There had been no reason for anyone to kill her, thinks Natsume. He is still sitting there, on a bench that is probably inside a police station, but at least his hands are clean now. No reason at all, except for me.

Natsume knows that he has done a lot in his short life that might have warranted a psychopath's revenge. Arson, sabotage, a few deaths on the side... the Black Cat was in town. But Mikan... she'd never done anything. She was pure. She was innocent. It shouldn't have been her. It should have been him. How could he have gotten her into this?

He puts his head in his hands and wants to cry, but he hasn't cried for a long time. Not since early childhood. He can't seem to remember how to. And if this was his fault, well, he didn't deserve that satisfaction.

"Hi... Natsume? It's Luca. I guess you don't really feel like talking right now, um, sorry about all these phone calls. I just wanted to let you know that I'll always be there if you want someone to talk to or anything... well... I hope I can see you soon. Keep well."

"Natsume, it's Aoi. I'm really sorry. You're probably not listening to this answerphone message, are you? I know Luca called you yesterday and you didn't call him back either, but I wanted to leave a message for you too... please call us soon? I love you, big brother..."

Days pass, and nights pass, and Natsume lives through them without really living. There seems to be something broken inside him – or maybe it had already been broken, he can't really tell. Mikan had been the one to repair him.

He still hasn't cried for her.

It's late and Natsume is in a hotel bed somewhere, not trying to sleep. There is only one image in his mind, and he certainly doesn't want that in his dreams. He rolls over, half-expecting to feel Mikan's body next to him. The coldness of the bed surprises him and makes his heart twist in agony all over again (as if that feeling had ever left him).

A voice.

"Natsume," says Mikan.

He opens his eyes. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him with those familiar brown eyes. Natsume coughs, trying to find his voice – "Why am I not surprised?" he says roughly.

"What have I done?" she says, smiling.

"If you were a real ghost, I'd be having a heart attack. If you're my imagination, I don't need you. I need to sleep." He isn't sure if he was speaking aloud or inside his head, or indeed if he is already asleep. What does it matter, anyway?

"You do need me," says Mikan. "Otherwise your imagination wouldn't have produced me! See?" She beams; Natsume's stomach clenches.

"I need to sleep," he repeats.

"And I'm far too asleep," she replies. "I'm only trying to help you."

"Don't say that," growls Natsume. He closes his eyes again. "Get the hell out of my head. I don't need a hallucination to help me."

Mikan doesn't say anything, but she sighs before leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. Natsume is surprised that he felt it, but then he supposes that this was a rather realistic hallucination, which made his mental state all the unhealthier. A faint whisper of a breeze, and she is gone.

The next day passes for Natsume in a trance. He eats, walks and lives automatically, not noticing what goes on around him. Nothing matters, anyway, now that Mikan is gone. And not just gone - not peacefully or happily or anywhere near that theoretical "right time" - but murdered. Brutally. Blood everywhere. The whole deal.

He would find the killer. Mikan hated revenge and violence, but Natsume needs it. Maybe it isn't for her that he would do this, but for himself. Well, that suits him just fine.

But that would be tomorrow. It's getting late.

She is sitting on the bed when he comes in.

"Natsume, you look terrible," she says, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"No shit."

"You know I don't want any revenge or anything silly like that."

"But I do."

"Natsume! If you just keep this cycle of bloodshed and goodness knows what, it's just going to get worse and worse! Do you want Luca to get involved as well? Just let the police do their job."

"And what am I meant to do then, huh?"

"Talk to me," says Mikan.

He laughs sharply. "Yeah, talking to imaginary dead people is really helpful for me. Good night."

"I love you," Mikan says, and then she is gone.

The policeman that Natsume finds seems scared and confused when Natsume asks him about the Mikan Sakura case. He's pretty sure that the police know who he is (after all, they had given him a very intense interrogation), but he can't quite work out this reaction.

No leads on the case.

But this isn't really fair. The police know nothing of Natsume's life, and that is where the answer was sure to be. The Academy doesn't release such confidential information to the common police force; Natsume would have to do some digging on his own. Maybe the killer would come back to finish the job, take out the real threat... Natsume would welcome that. It's a hopeful thought.

He's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. A week – or thereabouts, because he can't tell for sure - with a dead Mikan. It already seems like a decade had passed him by.

Natsume can't remember seeing Mikan last night, and he can't remember his nightmare either, so this is a good day. There is nothing to do – as rewarding as it would have been to hunt down every single gang and shady organisation and knife-man of Tokyo, Natsume feels that this task might be a little beyond him. The police aren't letting him go back to the crime-scene of his flat which meant he couldn't really investigate. Not that he thinks there was much of a chance in that area either.

It was a bit silly. How exactly is he to take revenge and find peace with the world if he can't see the path?

He rolls over, trying not to think about the pain.

Mikan doesn't want revenge. Natsume doesn't think that meant very much, seeing as she wasn't really there.

"But I'm your subconscious," she argues. "Which means that deep down, you know this is the wrong thing to be doing too!"

"I really don't care," says Natsume. "Just go away and leave me to grieve by myself. Is this supposed to make me feel better or something?"

Mikan sighs. "Come on," she said, taking his hand.

He flinches.

"Natsume, I love you. I'll always love you. But you're just going to destroy yourself and everyone else if all you can think about is more bloodshed, don't you see?"

"Look at how well that turned for you," grumbles Natsume into his pillow. He closes his eyes, burying himself in dark thoughts. He can still feel the strange warmth of her hand, though, and the comforting sensation stays with him as he falls into restless slumber.

Luca comes to visit.

"Hi, Natsume," he says while wringing his hands nervously. "I'm really sorry that Aoi couldn't come, she's completely stuck in her office this week – even I've hardly seen her." He is still wringing his hands.

"Stop doing that," says Natsume with some irritation. A pause. "Thanks for coming, Luca."

"Uh, no problem. How are you? I mean, that's a really stupid question, but..."

"I'm fine," Natsume says shortly. "Where's your bunny?"

"He's ill," says Luca quickly. "Sorry. Did you want to see him?"

Natsume shrugs. Luca seems to be at a loss for what to say next – hardly surprising, thinks Natsume.

"How's Aoi?" he asks. He knows Aoi is probably fine – well, as fine as she could be under the circumstances – so it was really only to continue this pretence of a conversation that he's asking. It seems like an age since the event, and he realises with a jolt that he hasn't once thought about Luca or his little sister this week. Well, that's a first.

"... upset, obviously, but I suppose we'll pull through it..." Luca is babbling something while trying to smile bravely.

Natsume had forgotten that Mikan had been one of Luca's best friends. He shakes his head to clear it. Luca has stopped talking; Natsume can see that he is on the verge of tears. Poor Luca.

"Good," says Natsume after a while.

"Er... would you like me to go?" says Luca.

Natsume shrugs again. "Whatever."

"Bye, Natsume," says Luca. There's something strange in his eyes, an expression Natsume can't quite place, that makes his chest burn in anguish all over again.

"Maybe you should go and visit Luca," mutters Natsume. "He's pretty depressed, you know. And he wouldn't kill anyone so you can take a break from your lecturing."

"Luca isn't hallucinating anything," says Mikan, poking him. It hurts. Natsume finds this slightly odd.

"Right, because I'm the only one crazy enough to talk to imaginary dead people," snorts Natsume.

"Two things – one, you said that exact same phrase three nights ago and two, yeah, that's probably true. Sorry."

"Good for me."

"Why don't you go and talk to the Academy? I'm sure they've kept tabs on all the mission targets and stuff that you've done, so they'll probably know if there's been any action in that quarter!"

Natsume blinks. "The real Mikan could never have come up with something like that."

"You just keep underestimating my brilliance!"

"Stop pretending to be her," says Natsume, slumping back onto the bed. "You're not. You'll never replace her."

"I'm not meaning to," says Mikan. "I just want to help you."

It turns out that the Academy knows nothing about the attack either. No intelligence records, no claims by any group to the event, not even a whisper of a rumour of a direction. Surely there must be something. It is perfectly in line with Natsume's expectations that the Academy should lie and then manipulate him into doing a few more ex-pupil style missions, and so he has come fully prepared for that option – still, even after that negotiating stage, even the Academy's big guns has to admit that it has no real evidence.

"Fine!" says Natsume. "Look, I'll do whatever you want me to do. Any missions, any clearing-up jobs, whatever. I'll do it. I don't care what it is. Just show me something, anything at all."

The Elementary Principal shakes his head. "No." And that is final.

Later, Natsume says to Mikan – "Why didn't he just create some fake documents and get me to stick to my end of the bargain? It was a pretty good offer."

"I dunno," says Mikan.

"Maybe the school did it."

"That doesn't seem right," Mikan says. "Why would they do that?"

"Your history isn't exactly nice to the school."

"But then they should have done something ten years ago, when that might have actually mattered!" she protests. "No, I think this is the wrong direction."

"Then why did you tell me to visit the school?"

"I was trying to be helpful," she says, patting his arm.

"Well, can't you be more helpful and give me a lead that might actually work? Fucking hell, we've just wasted a whole day."

"It's not a race, you know, the grieving process," says Mikan. She turns to him, looking confused. "Natsume, what did you do this morning?"

"I went to the Academy. What?"

"Then what?"

"Then nothing."

"For the whole day?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... can you remember how you got to the Academy?

Natsume opens his mouth to say, "Yeah, of course," but doesn't quite make it. He thinks about it. How had he got there?

"Well, that's funny," Mikan says, leaning back against the headboard.

It feels like a dream. Scenes change. Time skips. Nonsense makes sense. Natsume lights a flame on his hand and stares at the flickering shadows.

"It can't have just been a dream," he says. "Memory loss. Blackouts. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Should have expected stuff like this."

"You're asking me whether or not you're imagining things?" says Mikan, laughing. "Come on, it's not like I can tell you!"

"If I'm dreaming – doesn't that mean that you're still alive?"

His hope is quickly destroyed as Mikan slowly says, "No... I don't think it goes that far back. That was definitely real. I'd know that. Wouldn't I?"

"I have no idea," says Natsume. He snaps his hand shut, plunging them into complete darkness once again. "I don't know. Was the Academy me dreaming then? What if I can't tell?"

Mikan doesn't say anything. She kisses him on the lips – he is the cold and unresponsive one tonight. It is getting late, so he falls asleep.

Natsume is staring at his hands and occasionally sparking flames between them. He mentally runs over the events of the past few hours. Got up. Thought about Mikan. Ate breakfast (milk and an apple). Thought about murderers. Brushed teeth. Thought about Mikan. Stared at hands. That seems about right. No blackouts here, then.

Maybe he should visit the Academy again. Or should there really be an again? For all he knows, it is more than likely that he had not actually been there yesterday.

"So how are you meant to know that it won't be a dream today, then? We don't even know what happened yesterday, not for sure," says Mikan.

"I don't."

"Soooo... your point?"

"I just need to do something. Anything."

"I'm sure the police are more than capable," says Mikan, yawning. "Not everything has to be done by you, you know."

"Why are you so relaxed about this?" says Natsume, suddenly angry. "It was my fault that you... you died. I could have protected you better, I could have just not ever known you, I could have stopped it!"

"That's just what I mean!" says Mikan. "Stop trying to protect the whole world, Natsume."

"Not anymore."

"Or trying to kill it."

"I need to do something."

She shrugs, eyes wide in innocence. "It's your life."

He goes out to the Academy and the same thing happens. They refuse, don't even take his "I'm a naive idiot who believes everything you say" bait, and tell him patiently that they were not going to change their mind in one day, if ever.

This fits rather well with his hypothetical experience of yesterday. It is all very confusing.

"I don't think the Academy was a dream," says Natsume slowly, thinking aloud. "They remembered me from last time. Maybe it was just the journeys that I forgot."

"Okay," says Mikan. "Not like they helped, anyway."

He sits up and she kisses him – he doesn't respond, and then she isn't there.

This time, it is Aoi and Hotaru. Together.

"Where's Luca?" Natsume asks.

"I don't know, I just came straight from work and met Hotaru on the way!" says Aoi, trying to smile. They both look appalling, realises Natsume. Of course, he remembers that Mikan is – used to be – their friend too.

"You didn't tell him you were going to see Natsume," says Hotaru to Aoi, a statement rather than a question.

"Luca always worries so much about me..." says Aoi, sighing. "I wish he wouldn't."

Natsume would have liked to see Luca, come to think of it. He hasn't really thought about him since his last visit – his mind has been too full of thoughts of Mikan.

There's a silence. "Are you okay?" says Aoi. "Well obviously not, but..."

"Wonderful," says Natsume.

Hotaru doesn't say anything. Natsume wonders why she's here, since she's not exactly his friend – the only reason they even ever saw each other was because of Mikan. Maybe it's only in her memory that Hotaru bothers.

Aoi chatters on about various things, none of them very interesting or important. Natsume barely notices when she stops talking. He barely notices when they leave.

"Mikan," says Natsume to the darkness, trying to find her. He can't see anything – the dark is impenetrable.

"I miss Hotaru," she says.

"Go and talk to her then."

"I miss everything..." she continues, seemingly oblivious to his words.

"You seem alive to me," Natsume says.

"Well, you're the only one broken enough to see me, maybe," she suggests.

"Yes, from the shock of having my fiancée murdered in front of me."

There's a movement – Natsume can hear the swishing of material, though he still can't see anything – perhaps she's shaking her head?

"In front of you? No," she says. "I think you were broken before that."

"I had you."

"I tried to repair you... but right now, I think I'm making it worse," Mikan says. "But never mind. You didn't go to the Academy for a third time today, did you?"

"No," says Natsume. "That ten year old bastard can wait."

"Wait," says Mikan. She clutches his hand a little tighter. "How did you talk to him? I thought we kicked him out ages ago, remember?"

Natsume does remember. Now that he searches for the memory, he finds he can recall it all too well. It feels like a cold punch to the stomach – his heart seems to freeze. "This can't be right."

"Well... no," Mikan says. "Did you say that you talked to him both times?"

Natsume doesn't reply for a while. "Yes. Or at least I think I did."

This can't be right.

"I'm sorry," Natsume says. He doesn't know why he's saying it.

"I love you," Mikan says. She presses her lips to his briefly; Natsume closes his eyes and savours the sensation. She might have gone – Natsume doesn't notice. He doesn't seem to be noticing much lately, he thinks wryly.

Luca is talking and Aoi is babbling and are they really there? Natsume asks them - Luca stops and looks at him with that heart-wrenching concern in his eyes, and Aoi says, "What are you talking about? Of course we're here!"

Then again, Mikan would have said the same thing.

And then there's quiet, and Aoi looks close to tears.

The furniture and walls seem to shimmer as Natsume gazes around the room. It feels wrong. The same and somehow different. How to tell if you're dreaming - look for the mistakes.

The cushions are plumped. Only Mikan would have bothered.

"You could say thank you," she says, glaring and smiling at the same time.

"Mikan's not here," Natsume tells her.

"No," says Luca. There's a tear crawling down Aoi's right cheek; Natsume wants to take his sister's hand and drag her away from this dead reality, but he can't move. In the next eye-blink they are gone, and Natsume knows that this is the end.

If that was a dream, then maybe this is a dream. Natsume can't tell. There are pieces of his mind falling around him, bright fragments of memories burning like his own fires. How long has it been? Has he been wandering the streets, sleepwalking? What has happened? Did he really see Luca that day, the first time he visited? What about Hotaru?

What about Mikan?

"I'm always here," she says.

"I'm lost," Natsume admits. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, but instead moves closer and puts her hands around his head. He can see every detail of her face, every familiar freckle and blemish and crease.

He kisses her. It's a deep kiss, one filled with longing and pain – she kisses back, and there's sorrow in the motions. His hands move over her face and her body as they had done so many times in the past, and he closes his eyes to try to keep this at least this memory safe. She takes his hand, caressing his gently.

"I'm sorry," he repeats as he pulls away.

She smiles sadly. He strokes her cheek, her lips, her neck-

"There's blood on your neck." A red bloom flushes on his skin. He touches her neck again. There's no wound, but scarlet drops are welling up against his fingertips.

"I know," she says. She doesn't move.

"Don't you think you should clean yourself up?"

"It's too late for that." She still doesn't move; her incessant gaze is unsettling him.

Some of the pieces are settling into place.

"I was always broken," he says finally. "It wasn't since then."

She doesn't move. She doesn't speak. Blood trickles down her arm and her chest and staining her clothes. There's a sick feeling in the pit of Natsume's heart. He wipes away the ooze dribbling down her left hand, the one grasping his, to no avail.

It seems like an eternity and yet no time at all when he finds the words – "Who killed you, Mikan?" His voice isn't his any longer – it's hoarse, unfamiliar and broken, hardly a human voice at all.

"Don't you know?" she says. Her eyes close for the last time, pallid skin drawing shut over lifeless flesh. The pressure on his hand disappears. She vanishes. The unfathomable dark peels away to reveal the stark walls surrounding him, and Natsume understands at last.

There is still blood on his hands.

A/N: "Illusion is the first of all pleasures." If you didn't get it (or if you got it too soon), please say so - it's hard for me to judge how much I gave away...
If you really really didn't get it:
- Natsume did it
- it wasn't the death that drove him into insanity, it was all that Academy stuff from before
- Luca, Aoi and Hotaru did come to visit him (in a police cell), but obviously Natsume didn't realise where they really were; same with the cameo appearance of a police officer
- answerphone messages were after Natsume was arrested and before Luca/Aoi were told (well duh)
- everything else was a hallucination.