Before we begin...

Story type: post canon story, post final arc, 20-30 year old characters

Sequel to the Seven Days to The Worst Wedding Ever, story about Mikan and Natsume's wedding. It is necessary that you read that one first :)

Genre: Romance/Humor

Pairings: Hotaru x Yoichi (gasp! Yes, I know.) Mikan x Natsume, Aoi x Luca

Warnings: a lot of hints of suggestible situations, questionable intentions

- About my stories:

Maybe it's best to say that I never create a perfect character. Everybody has flaws, and if a character has to suffer to make a believable flow, I am sure to make them suffer. Nobody escapes what needs to be done.

- Disclaimer and story explanation:

I don't own Gakuen Alice. The story is mine, though, and so does the plot.

Summary:

Look at the pairings above? When you're done blaspheming and cursing me, and if you're curious about how the pairing would even work (because… wow, seriously?) it's all here.

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Chapter One

The Old Maid Comes To Town

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If anyone, anyone, offered to introduce her to someone again this week, she was going to kill them. And she meant it.

Dr. Hotaru Imai, B. Sc., M. Sc., M. Eng., M. Tech., Ph. D, sat in the back seat of the taxi, holding the hand of a five year old boy, and glared at the back of the driver's head.

The taxi wasn't moving after getting out of the tollbooth from the airport. Hotaru had considered walking all the way to the Alice Academy. After all, she had worn her brown flats, blue jeans and white plain shirt in preparation for the long flights. That was her plan, before she looked up the length of her journey from the airport to her goal in her smartphone app. Thirty five kilometers from the toll booth to the outskirts of the town where Alice Academy of America located, wasn't a track she would be willing to go by feet, unless the taxi caught fire. Considering what she had brought all the way from Japan, Fire was one big possibility.

Her son scowled at her, the face almost similar to her, but slightly marred by the imperfection of the dad's lips, nose and black hair. It got to the point where she had to hide him from the eyes of her fellow scientists, and bringing the little prodigy to work wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She herself wouldn't mind the question that would come, but she doubted her son's birth mother wanted to answer the question like, "Why do your son look so much like Hotaru?"

The boy was wearing dark blue dress pants, collared white button down, black socks and black leather shoes. Everything he wore had to be ironed and pressed to a level of his liking. She had tried to make the five year old wearing sneakers, shorts and baseball tees, but they ended up in a verbal argument about the condition of human labour, making the baseball tees in China, the skid level of the rubber outsoles of the sneakers and the practical compatibility of a five year old who never played baseball in his life with a baseball tee and shorts. There was even some hint about bullies in the Alice Academy playground that her son might have or might had not burned with his gift because they had remarked of what a weakling he was. The logical part of Hotaru decided that dressing the little stuck-up like an actual human being would not worth her time and headache.

"Why aren't we moving?" the little human demanded.

She gave the same scowl. "Ask the man."

"It's a traffic jam!" said the driver once more. "And I can feel you two glaring at the back of my head. Stop it or I'll just dump you two creeps here!"

Hmm. To glare or not to glare.

If she glared, her son and she would be out the door. Then they had to walk thirty five kilometers in the jammed road. Her son would then launch a tirade about the theory of infinite patience until you got what you were looking for. At the time they reached the AA, Hotaru might have throttled her protégé in self-defence, or she might have a third degree burns in ninety five percent of her body from an unknown source. If she didn't glare, they would stay here.

Okay.

Hotaru looked outside the iron prison she was forced to sit in for the last three hours. The tall buildings greeted her, their tall heights and strong foundations only managed to make her scoff. She was familiar with them. She was familiar with this city, this street, this place. She had her two… wait, was it three…? Anyway, she had had her degrees in this United State of America.

It was so long ago, after the trio had found her and her brother and extracted them back into this time period. If not because of 'The Time Loop', Hotaru would have had at least three to four more degrees to her name. Shame, but she couldn't fault her past, not when it had given her enough satisfaction. She had managed to accelerate her studies to match her friends, and graduated with them, after all. It worked because they returned to the Alice Academy, where everyone knew what happened to her and her brother, and she had been given an accelerated course. She had seen her best friend married her other friend five years ago, and although she could make twenty page essays about Natsume's shortcomings, she knew one thing that marked him as the only one for Mikan.

Mikan was Natsume's number one priority, no matter what the AA principal said to his wife, no matter what he did, or pretend to do in front of everyone else. Mikan would always come first. That made Natsume worth the trouble he brought along with his infamous wedding event bordering on disastrous. For the months that followed, Mikan had to run back and forth from America to Japan to deal with the documents and papers, selling out his new sports car and apartment in order to make enough money for her leaving the country, and petitioned the government three times for Spouse Visa.

"I gotta pee," Ifrit incarnation shouted. "I gotta go!"

"You already went to the toilet in the airport," said Hotaru.

"But that's before you gave me the tea," said the boy. "You know how I react to stimulants!"

She knew, and she had said no when he asked for the tea, but in front of the drink machine, the boy launched a diatribe about prodigy in modern times being equal to child prodigy in ancient Greece, that they had never been given anything they wished for, instead being used for what they do best, while the master went on to profit from the theory and innocence of their naïve protégé. Hotaru decided it was not yet time to tell her son that most of the protégé in ancient Greece had laid in bed with their master, and that they had no innocence left after performing in private parties for Greek nobles, in the hall and in bed.

She didn't tell him because: One, it was disgusting for her to even remark of Pederasty, her protégé being her actual son. Two, her son would learn it from someone else later, and then he would realize how good he actually had it, her being a logical woman that had no interest in 'the prodigy's fair skin and pure heart' nor 'incestuous romance' like most Greek or Roman nobles.

Three, it was more disgusting the more she thought about it. To make her feel less filthy thinking about the Greek nobles and their protégés, she poured three cans of tea into her son's throat while mumbling about wishing they were Greek so he actually knew what he said.

Oh. That was why he was hopping on his seat since half an hour ago.

"Burn your penis," she said to her son. "It'll stop your bladder."

The tiny demon scoffed, ignoring the gasp from the taxi driver. "I can't burn myself!"

"I left my clamps at home," she replied.

"What kind of mother are you?" the driver yelled, pointing at her. Her. She who had been sitting here in this thing for three hours. "How could you say that to your own flesh and bones? You monster! I'm going to report you to the social service!"

She gave him a droll stare.

He snarled. "Oh, so now you finally choose to stay silent? You… you're not fit to be a mother! How could you threaten your own infant son like that?"

Hotaru looked back to the fragile infant, who was hopping in his seat. "You see the problem? He thinks you're my son."

"I can burn your face so you don't look like me," offered the fragile one with a cringe as he put his hands on his genitals, desperately trying to stop the flow. "But AFTER I PEE!"

Hotaru looked around. She only held a backpack, her small luggage and her son's backpack was in the trunk. There was no plastic bag, no water bottle. Hotaru tried to open the door. She frowned when the door refused to budge. The lock couldn't be pulled. She turned to the driver who watched her with grim eyes, gun in his shaky hand.

"Seriously?" she said. "You can't do that three hours ago?"

"I thought I'd pass you up, since you're with your son and all," snarled the driver. "But I don't think I need to hold back with a monster like you, who just have a son because you're pregnant and not because you do care." He took a deep breath. "Wallet, please."

Well, wasn't he a polite one. A robber never lacked manners in this country.

Hmm. To give wallet or not to give.

If she didn't give her wallet, then the gun might explode. The gun was aimed at her, so her prodigy would then assault the taxi driver with his gift. The taxi would explode from inside out, and the fire would reach the sea of vehicles stuck in jam around them, the fuels inside the scorched cars turning the flame into a massive explosion of metals and burnt flesh, reaching to the tallest buildings in the side of the street. The asphalt road would fall under the extreme heat of living hell above it, and the whole city would go down into the core of the earth, accompanied by cries of innocent bystanders eaten by infernos. If she gave her wallet, then her son and she would be kicked out and then her son could go into one of the tall buildings to pee.

Okay.

"I gotta pee!" cried the genital toucher. "Pee! Aaah it's up!"

Hotaru leaned on the door, reaching for the wallet in her back pocket. The moment she leaned her side on the door, the lock sprang from its place and the door slid out from beneath her. Hotaru looked with wide eyes as she fell, back first, into the shadows. The dark fog enveloped her, hugged her into its serene mist.

She waved the darkness in front of her eyes with her wallet in hand, and ignored the scream of the taxi driver. Way too dark to see…

She swallowed when the darkness got too familiar to her liking. She knew this feeling, and she hated it. She hated her four years of looking outside, trying to grab anything that could make her stay in any time period. Her hands never managed to clutch anything to anchor them. Her brother screaming out, begging for anyone passing their transparent forms to listen, to help… the lady with a bonnet, the man with the Sporran on his kilt, anyone…

Anyone…

She still held something. Her wallet. She gripped it in front of her, trying to breathe, trying to understand what was going on. She held something. She wasn't lost. She wasn't. The shadow was familiar, but it wasn't like her past, where she stayed in the dark looking outside, to the world passing them by. It was all dark.

It wasn't the same. She breathed in. It wasn't. God help her, Unreligious as she was, this was not going to be her prison again.

When the mist in front of her receded into nothing, she felt a wet patch under the seat, beneath her right calf. Oh, well. She shouldn't leave her clamps at home.

"Sorry," whispered the wet patch maker. "Is it your new socks?"

"And my new pants," she replied, looking up to the face of the man whose feet she was laying on.

The man was tall, much taller than her. He wore a black leather jacket that was obviously tailored to suit him, white dress shirt, black dress pants and blue tie under the jacket. In one hand, he held a black cylinder tablet. Another cylinder tablet hung on his back, the end rested above a branded leather office bag he slung over his shoulders. And he had wide shoulders. His hair was brown, his eyes were blue. Right now that blue eyes looked down at her, crinkling at the end as he studied her. His nose was straight, his jaw strong. His mouth formed a smile, like he was laughing at her expense.

"Well, well, well," he said. "The Old Maid comes to town."

She studied him from upside down. "You look familiar. Did we ever sleep together?"

He frowned and managed to look surprised yet disgusted at the same time. "It's me. And no, we're not. Not that I knew of."

"Me who?" said Hotaru. The man pulled her up. She shook the wet patch on her pants, before looking up to her quasi-helper. And up. And up.

He looked really familiar. He was half Japanese, half Caucasian, with blue eyes and brown hair. Her previous thought wasn't wrong; he was really tall, with wide shoulders and a lot of baggage on his body, a messenger office bag and two big black cylinder tablets. He scowled as Hotaru studied him more.

"You don't remember me?" he scoffed. "I know we never met again after you got trapped in that Loophole or something, but really? You never even saw me when I studied in Mikan's class?"

That made him younger than her. He knew she was trapped in the Time Loop… but the only one who knew that was the team who had helped her out, and maybe some students who were on the scene. But young kids who knew…

Hotaru had never stepped a foot inside AA after her graduation, only once more for Mikan's wedding and her son's birth. She didn't see any point in reacquainting herself with the students that wasn't a part of her direct circle. Those who knew about the events held themselves back from asking her. There were rumours about her having major panic attacks, and that she never liked being alone because of the incident.

Those rumours were partially untrue. She had her brother with her in the time loop. But for the panic attacks…

"Should I know you?" Hotaru said as she glanced into the taxi. Her son was crawling out. The driver stared at the window, eyes wide. His mouth was wide open, as if he was looking at something that had shaken him to the core. Something scary?

Like a ghost?

Hotaru turned back to study the man. The shadow, the darkness, the calm mist enveloping her earlier… Could it be? "Hijiri?"

He smirked, his blue eyes gleamed. "The one and only."

Yoichi Hijiri, the three year old boy Mikan used to carry all over the Academy? Little pint who clung to Natsume all the time? Hotaru looked at him up and down.

He obviously wasn't three years old anymore. "How long has it been since I saw you?"

Hijiri's eyebrow shot up. "Since before you got into the Loophole?"

"Did you eat more Candy?"

He grinned. "Nah, I ate different kind of honey these days. This is the actual age of me."

Hotaru blinked. "Did you just make an innuendo at me?"

"So you noticed?"

"I'm going to say, 'Oh'. And 'Yuck'."

He laughed at her poker face. "You're still the same Imai. I'm not a kid anymore, so why the 'yuck'?"

"You're three years old."

"Add twenty one years to that and you got it right," he said.

Twenty one years? That long… Hotaru never realized she had seen him the first time twenty one years ago. The fact that she had wasted four years of her life among the twenty one years might also add to her shock of seeing him now, all grown up. She shook her head. She didn't want to go there. Not in the middle of the street, in the centre of the traffic jam, while her son was tugging at her shirt.

She looked down at her son. "What?"

"I need to change my pants," whispered her prodigy, shooting Hijiri embarrassed glance.

She squeezed her son's tiny shoulder. "It's okay, it's another one of the Alice people. Hijiri, this is Akira."

Her son buried his face to the side of her waist. "My pants," he mumbled.

Hijiri offered his hand to the five year old. "Hey," he said. "Nice to meet ya. I'm Yoichi."

Akira shook his head, not looking at the offered hand. "I refuse to grace myself to a new acquaintance with a soiled material on my person."

Hijiri grimaced as he stood straight. "I'm going to bet all my life savings he's your son."

"How much we're talking?"

"Doctor Imai," said Akira. "My pants!" he whispered.

"You let your son call you Doctor Imai?" said Hijiri as Hotaru walked towards the driver's door. "Aren't you exercising your Freedom Rights on your family a little too much?"

"That life savings you're betting," said Hotaru as she bent down and pushed the trunk button on the side of the driver's seat, ignoring the driver. "I'd like to have it." She headed to the trunk and glanced at Akira. The boy was crouching in front of the open trunk refusing to look at Hijiri.

Akira grabbed his leather backpack and hefted it out the trunk, to the road. He unzipped his backpack and removed a pair of folded black pants. In front of everyone, car and human alike, the five year old unzipped his pants and pulled his pants down, in the middle of the jammed street.

Hijiri blinked. He opened his mouth to say something, only to notice Hotaru walking back to the driver's seat. He circled the car and peered behind her shoulders to see what she was doing.

"You're paying him?" he said. "You're paying your robber?"

Hotaru dropped the last of the two hundred and thirty five dollar taxi fare she owed the paralysed driver to the driver's lap, and switched off the meter. "He spent three hours, forty five minutes and twenty six seconds in the taxi with me and Akira. The fare was fair." She stood up, closed the door and turned. Hijiri was still gaping at her, so she raised her hand and pushed his jaw close.

Akira was stripping down his bottom to nude when she pulled out her luggage from the trunk and her backpack from her seat. Hijiri motioned to the stripping boy. The cars around them pressed their horns, either to discourage the boy to strip or to try and shame the mother into covering her son. Some passerby glared at the boy in disgust.

"He refused to shake my hand and then he stripped where everyone can see?" Hijiri said.

"Nudity is overrated," claimed Akira. He took a new underwear from his backpack. "The ancient Greek spent their lives being nude and comfortable with it, the Olympians competed nude, the Greece prodigies studied in the house of their nobles while nude. They only wore cloth to cover themselves inside the Temples in order to not enrage their Gods. Most of the time, Greek needed to wear nothing, especially the young. I learned from the best."

Hijiri walked to Hotaru's side and murmured. "Did he know the real reason the ancient Greek wore cloth inside the temple was because their Gods forced themselves on everyone that took their fancy?"

Hotaru stared into the man's eyes. It was hard because of their height differences. He must be at least 195 cm up. "He's five. Why he would learn about Greece that way?"

He shot her a look. "And yet he learned about Greek nudity?"

"Of course he learned about Greek nudity," said Hotaru. "He's five."

Hijiri frowned, and he opened his mouth trying to say something. He thought about it, glanced at Akira as the boy tossed the soiled underwear and pants into the trunk, and shut his mouth. He shook his head and mumbled.

"So why were you here?" said Hotaru. "Was Mikan tracking me down and sending you as my backup?"

Akira closed the trunk, studied his new attire and nodded.

"No. I didn't even know who you were." Hijiri patted the cylinder tablet on top of his bag. "I was in a meeting with my clients. I walked by your taxi and I thought I recognized you. Well, your son. He's a spitting image of you as a kid. So I waited to see what's going on. When that man pointed a gun at you, I reacted."

"You scared a man into a shock just because he pointed a gun at me?" said Hotaru.

"Wha—just because?" Hijiri gaped. "Just because he pointed a gun at you?"

Hotaru stared at him. "That's what I said."

Hijiri clenched his jaw and muttered, "Unbelievable." He grabbed Hotaru's luggage and wrenched it out from her hand. "Just un-believable."

"What are you doing?" Hotaru said, watching Hijiri walk away with her luggage towards the side of the street.

Hijiri looked behind his shoulder. "Look around you. At this hour and this street you won't get another taxi. Don't even think about hitchhiking in this city, not after the stunt your son pulled."

Hotaru wasn't even thinking about hitchhiking. Was there still a hitchhiker in America? She looked around. The taxi driver hadn't been lying when he said it was a traffic jam. She couldn't see a clear road sans vehicles as far as her eyes could reach.

"Who's going to hitchhike?" said Akira as he pulled his wheeled backpack and followed Hijiri to the pedestrian road. "Doctor Imai doesn't have a bikini body to pull up a car."

Hijiri tripped on his own feet.

"We don't need my bikini body," Hotaru said as she clenched Akira's shoulder and shoved him to walk faster. "You can revert to your Greek ways and we'll have the biggest pickup driver stops with his biggest trailer in three minutes."

She thought she heard Hijiri murmured, 'mother and son indeed' as he guided them through the pedestrian road.

Five blocks and twenty minutes later, Hijiri entered a parking building and drew out his car keys. He opened the trunk of a black Benz and put Hotaru's luggage in. Hotaru and Akira waited until he ignited the car before getting in.

"I do declare that this is a nice vessel," said Akira as he placed himself on the back seat. "I hereby claim my rights to stay in this position until all of my subjects reached the temporary abode where I am going to stay."

Hijiri glanced at him from the mirror. "You speak weird. Was your mother teaching you that kind of English? King Lear?"

Sitting next to Hijiri, Hotaru shook her head as she pulled out the seatbelt. "His mother gave him King James' Bible. She wanted to make him less weird."

Hijiri turned to look at the boy. Already using his seatbelt, Akira raised his right hand up in Hail Hitler salute. "God. I am so sorry for your failure."

Hotaru looked outside the window as the Benz rolled outside the parking building. They easily sped past clear, straight road. "Is the area around the airport always that jammed?"

"Just in this past three days. I don't know why," said Hijiri. "I wonder if some other roads are blocked and the cars don't have any other street they can go through. I don't usually park that far away from the meeting place."

Hotaru looked at the back seat, where the cylinder tablets and office bags settled next to Akira, who was now humming a Kill Bill rhyme. "Designer?"

"Architect."

"So you went straight to work after graduation?"

Hijiri gave her a glance. "Yeah. But if you're thinking I'm a fresh graduate, sorry to disappoint. I graduated three years ago, so I'm not a newbie."

Hotaru nodded and looked back at the front window. "Impressive."

"If that's sarcasm…"

"No, it's not. Do you want it to be sarcasm?"

He shrugged. "Mikan told me you're a doctor with so many degrees she lost count. Sorry if I don't really believe that you think I was impressive to graduate at twenty one."

"Death to the Aryans!" said Akira and pointed far ahead to Hijiri's back. "Tonight, we DINE, in HELL!"

"That's two completely different movies," replied Hijiri.

"I'm eclectic," said Akira, and raised his arms up. "Aaaggh! Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary!" He covered his face with his palms. Then he cackled, and cackled, and cackled.

Hijiri gave Hotaru a pitying look. "So his father behaves like you?"

Hotaru had to pause and think about Natsume for a while. "Yes, regarding to his attitude and his logical ways. Although he has a much lower intelligence compared to me."

Akira emitted a high keening sound between his hands. Hijiri bit his lower lips and mumbled, "I never would have guessed."

The Benz took them out from the city, towards the farm area. Hotaru counted a hundred and eight cows before she saw her destination. The Alice Academy of America looked no different than its counterpart in Japan. It was the same size, the same shape, the difference only that it was also in the middle of nowhere. And there were plenty of sheep around the building.

Hotaru watched the building as it got closer… and farther. She turned to Hijiri as the man drove past AA. "What are you doing?"

"Driving you to Mikan's home."

Hotaru pointed at the building behind them with her thumb.

"Nope. They don't live in his office. Mikan has a mansion," he said with a ghost of a smile in his lips. "It's a pretty estate. You'll like it."

"You're not kidnapping me for ransom, are you?" said Hotaru. "Because I don't worth so many millions."

He hesitated. "Exactly how many millions? In US dollar?" Then he grinned. "Nah. I don't work that way. As I remember it, you're the one who played dirty all the time."

"You hesitated for a while."

"Yeah. Sorry for being human." He pointed ahead. "See that?"

Hotaru did see it. The mansion was real.

As they sped through the open brick gate and colourful flower gardens, Hotaru looked at the red brick building in front of her. It was at least five stories tall, with a dark brown roof. Who knew how large the mansion was from back to back. Tall white columns supported the massive building, with white column windows and big two stories tall white entrance. Hijiri turned along the circular pathway and stopped the Benz in front of the stairs to the entrance. Hotaru opened the door and stared at the building. She looked up. It was huge.

"Mikan has a mansion," she said. "Now I've seen everything."

"You haven't seen it from the inside," said Hijiri as he walked out. Grinning, he ambled to the entrance and grabbed the left handle, under the door knocker. Mikan had a door knocker. The door handles had golden rabbits on top, and the golden kitten with a golden loop in its mouth was the door knocker.

"I thought you were rich, Doctor Imai," said Akira as he hopped out. "But wow. My donor's wife beat you to Japan and back."

Hotaru stared at the door. Hijiri walked inside the mansion. She video-called Mikan every week, and this never came up in the conversation. But Mikan also didn't know about her current status within the company.

Maybe there were some secrets between them.

The entrance opened again, and a woman with long brown hair, a pink sundress and sparkly stiletto sauntered out. Hotaru waved at Mikan. The lady of the mansion brightened up and ran down the stairs, and almost knocked Hotaru back the roof of the Benz when Mikan launched into her.

"Hey," said Hotaru.

"You didn't say you'd come!" said Mikan between sobs, her head buried into Hotaru's neck. "You're here! You're really here!"

"You didn't tell her you're coming?" said Hijiri. He was standing in front of the entrance. "I thought you two had plans!"

"Yeah…" Mikan stopped and pulled back. She glared at Hotaru with her arms clutching Hotaru's elbows. "So what actually are you planning?"

So she wanted to be spontaneous. Was that so surprising? "Can't I just come to see my best friend?"

Mikan looked suspicious. "No, it doesn't sound like you at all. What's going on?"

"Anyhow," said Hijiri, strolling down the stairs. "I've done my part. Gotta get back to my own dwelling." He nudged Hotaru and Akira to the side, and opened the trunk.

"Thank you so much, Yoichi!" said Mikan. "I owe you!"

"You owe me so much, I can live comfortably if I decide to start calling on them," said Yoichi. He placed Hotaru's luggage, backpack and Akira's backpack on the ground next to the boy. "See ya." He unlocked the driver's door and sat in.

"Don't forget about the dinner!" said Mikan.

"Yeah, yeah." Then the door closed, Benz started, and rolled away.

Hotaru watched the Benz disappeared from the brick gate. "You let him take your car?"

"It's his car," said Mikan. "Hi, Akira!"

Akira smiled at Mikan. "I see I am now under your gracious host for the time being. I humbly offer my service as a protégé and student of Doctor Hotaru Imai, and thus I am your servant. Use me as you see fit."

Mikan sighed as she ruffled the boy's hair. "Aren't you precious?"

"The ring!" said Akira, hands clutched in front of his chin as he crowed. "I have the ring!"

"Yeah… would you mind going inside and help me finishing the strawberry cake inside my fridge?"

"It depends. Is this an order?"

Mikan tilted her head. "It is."

"Then your wish is my command!" Akira ran into the mansion.

"You're right," said Mikan to Hotaru as she took Akira's backpack. "He's just getting more precious and a treasure."

"Did I ever say that?" Hotaru said. Following her host, she carried her backpack and luggage into the building. "I told you Akira getting more psychological tests. The video call must've been broken."

"He needs more test? Then what about you?" Mikan dropped the backpack in the front hall. "Just put your stuff there, the maid will carry it into the guest room."

Maid. Hotaru liked having maids too. Hers were rabbit androids variety though. "What about me?"

"My Lady!" said Akira from the back. "I see you have acquired a great number of sulfurs and lactic acid. Do you have any idea how many states we can conquest from grooming lethal bacteria of this kind?"

"Drop the soap boxes!" yelled someone. Hotaru guessed it was the maid. "How on earth did you open that locked drawers?"

Mikan shook her head. "Never mind."

Hotaru looked at the wooden framed big mirror next to her. It was nailed to the wall. Next to the lengthy mirror was a small decorated brown end table, a fat golden rabbit sat on it holding a golden plate. Several keys were stacked on the plate. Around the golden rabbit lay several fresh colourful petals. Hotaru assumed it was from the garden outside.

The front hall was long and wide, with rows of pictures hung on the soft orange wall. Across the mirror was a vintage coat rack. Another end table stood next to the coat rack, similar to the one next to the mirror. On it sat a metal black cat statue. Its eyes were red, and the cat was smirking while sitting on guard. Hotaru stared at the cat for a long time. The owner of the mansion did know how to make it personal.

At the end of the front hall was a large arch into another room, a set of silver dinner table and chairs visible from the arch. Hotaru walked past the wall, looking at the massive chandelier on the ceiling. It was familiar.

"The chandelier…" Hotaru pointed up. "The one Akira burned?"

"Yeah!" said Mikan. "You remembered! That's the one from the Japan hall. We took it and restored it, then shipped it here."

"Nice memento," said Hotaru. She looked at the pictures on the wall.

Some of the pictures were of Mikan and Natsume on their wedding. Hotaru knew they didn't take any pictures of their actual wedding, so this would be a post-wedding pictorial. Looking at the beach behind it, Hotaru'd say Hawaii. Mikan and Natsume cut a rope in front of a building. This would be the Alice Laboratorium of Science that Mikan was now the head of. Natsume sat behind a mahogany table and smiled for the camera. It was his office in America. Mikan and Natsume posed in front of their own flower garden. A few pictures were supposed to be on the wall after it, but there were none. Instead, near the arch to the dining room, Hotaru saw two more pictures.

In one picture, Hijiri was sitting on the dirt, looking to the side. He was wearing worker's overalls, black boots, yellow helmet and builder's gloves. His face was dirty, yet his eyes gleamed as he smiled to whoever was outside the view. Behind him was a half-built area of red bricks and tiled stairs.

"This mansion?" asked Hotaru.

"Yes. Yoichi helped build this mansion. He actually built most of the rooms himself."

"He did?"

"It took seven months to build all this." Mikan waved around her. "Natsume first brought him here because it was easier to adopt him under his name for the green card if the boy was already here on a Visitor Visa. He put Yoichi in this area so that the builders could watch him while Natsume was busy dealing with the labs and the academy. That was before our wedding. As a joke, the head builders told Yoichi that Natsume brought him as a free labour." She laughed. "The joke was on us. When Natsume returned after the wedding, Yoichi had built the front hall, the kitchen… he was so into it he refused to stop. He put most of the bricks. He painted most of the rooms…" Mikan smiled and pointed at the next picture. "I was so amazed when I came here."

In the last picture, Mikan, Natsume and Yoichi posed in front of the brick gate, with the mansion visible between it. Mikan and Natsume grinned at the camera, and Yoichi smirked. His eyes were a little dimmer, as if tired, and he had lost a lot of weight compared to the first picture of him.

"That was when he knew, and we realized, that he really is good at this. He wanted to build a house with his own hands, and he became different."

"Different?"

"Yoichi had a habit of… uh…" Mikan frowned. "How should I say it? He liked to sleep around."

"So he's a slut."

"What?" Mikan shook her head. "No. He…" She slumped. "Well, yes. He's a slut. He slept with almost all the girls in Japan Academy."

"A very easy slut."

Mikan bit her lips and shot her best friend an amused glance. "By calling him a slut it's already noted that he was very easy, don't you think? Anyway, he started taking his studies seriously, because he wanted to be an architect. And now, almost six years later, he really is one of the best in this country."

Hotaru remembered the buildings they went past before they reached the outskirts of town. Were some of them made by Hijiri?

"I'll show you some of his designs and medals later," said Mikan. "He won a lot of awards."

Hotaru shrugged. "Okay."

"So what brings you here?" asked Mikan. "For real?"

So here goes. Hotaru looked at Mikan in the eyes. "I'm thinking of enlisting Akira into American Academy."

Mikan blinked. "Really? But… what about Nonoko?"

"What about her?"

"Well, isn't she his actual mother? Not you? She's the one giving birth to him."

"And she gave Akira to me the day he turned four to learn under my guidance. Your point?"

"You're bringing him away from his mother. It's another matter if the boy learns with you in your lab. Your lab is in Japan, Nonoko is in Japan. She can just check on her son anytime she wants."

Hotaru thought about the times Nonoko appeared in the lab to see Akira, uninvited and often. Oh. So that was what she's doing. "So?"

"Hotaru! You can't just bring someone son's away like that!"

"I just did."

Mikan regarded her with suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"Nonoko didn't make Akira's passport. I did. So here he is, and Nonoko is fine with it."

"Fine?" Mikan yelled. Hotaru forgot how high her pitch could reach. "Fine? Nonoko didn't give permission? You kidnapped Akira! Did you actually ask Nonoko if you can bring her son here?"

"I let Akira decide if he wanted to ask for his mother's permission or not. I assume he did ask."

Mikan gaped. "Oh my God!" she turned and ran into the dining room. "Akira! Akira!"

That was it? And Hotaru already prepared a spiel about how Akira was born of Fire Alice, and Natsume was the only one who could understand how hard it was to be dangerous. That didn't come up.

Mikan showed up a few minutes later, Akira in tow.

"You have to call Nonoko now!" the lady demanded.

"Now!" parroted Akira. "It seems like I have to call my mother after all, Doctor Imai."

"I'll talk to Natsume about you wanting to enlist Akira here, but you have to contact his mother first," said Mikan.

"Okay."

"Oh, Hotaru." Mikan hugged her best friend, which of course wasn't reciprocated. "I love that you're here now, because I missed you so much."

"Why? I'm just in Japan."

"But still…"

"It's not like I'm trapped in a loop for four years and you have no way to contact me, is it?"

Mikan's eyes widened in horror.

"Too much?"

"Too soon!" Mikan snapped.

"It's thirteen years ago."

"Forever is too soon!" said Mikan. "Never speak about that again! Don't even joke about it!" She pulled Hotaru into a hug once more. "I don't want to remember that!"

"I'm glad you pulled me back," whispered Hotaru into Mikan's ear.

"Always," replied Mikan. "I'll always pull you back."

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What do you think of this sequel?