Natsume stood in front of a large black box full of folded white papers. A small smile, barely noticeable, broke from his pink lips. Koko, who was much needed, stood to his left, Ruka on his right. Every time he touched a piece of paper, Koko shook his head. The whole special abilities stood in front of him in anticipation on who he gets to pick. That moment came when Koko nodded in agreement and Natsume picked up the piece of paper and gave it to Mikan.

Mikan, on the other hand, was losing her patience in waiting for Natsume to pick his slave. He won the game again. It always depends on whether he was actually interested in the prize and more often that not, he wins the prize, which always, always irritates Mikan. Was there ever a time that he didn't get what he wants?

Mikan opened the piece of paper, heart pounding in nervousness, hoping that she wouldn't read her own name. It was clearly not fair that he had Koko in hand to read the names of every paper he touched. She unfolded the piece of paper to find Mikan Sakura in bold capital letters with that messy handwriting. Her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to break down, devastated.

"Mikan Sakura," she whispered her own name, hoping she didn't have to repeat it.

"Who?" Natsume asked. "I didn't hear it."

"That's not fair, you already know who was it before you even see it," Mikan argued. "What is with me that interests you so much that you would want me as your slave?"

Natsume shrugged as everybody watched their argument in silence. Natsume, at seventeen, seemed irresistible to the female population, partly, except for Mikan. She was never to be counted or included to Natsume's flock of girls, or at least she thought so. She would admit that Natsume was ultimately good-looking but she was substance over style. She didn't like how Natsume flaunted what he had. She always thought that people who were lucky to be as perfect as he was, should be humble, or somewhat close to that. But Natsume never really had a thing for humility.

"So, Mikan, I guess, you'll be Natsume's slave for a week," Tsubasa said out loud for the whole Special Abilities to hear.

Mikan's eyes widened. "Was it a week? One whole week?"

"Seven days," Tsubasa confirmed.

Mikan looked at Koko. "Koko, how could you do this to me?"

"He's got something on me, Mikan, I'm sorry."

"Something on you? On you? What? You can read his mind, how could you not use it against him?"

"Look, Mikan, it's done with, I'm sorry," Koko apologized with a smile.

Mikan narrowed her eyes. "I'll find something on you." She looked at Natsume. "Especially on you."

Natsume seemed to find this amusing than how Mikan seemed to see it. "Come on, slave, your day is starting."

Seven Days of Slavery Rules:

Rule 1: Slaves must call their masters, Master.

Rule 2: Masters, there are such things as sexual harassment.

Rule 3: Slaves never say no unless it applies to goes against other rules.

Rule 4: Masters can never torture their slaves.

Rule 5: Slaves can never hurt their masters.

Rule 6: Slaves are bound to their masters for seven days, no more, no less.

SEVEN DAYS OF SLAVERY DAY ONE

Mikan walked towards Natsume's room, heart pounding, afraid something stupid might happen. It took two knocks and Natsume was not to be found.

"I'm coming in," she hesitated. "Master."

Mikan opened the door, the room was empty and surprisingly in order. "Natsume? I mean, master?" It didn't take her five seconds to realize what was about to happen when the bathroom door opened and released steam. Natsume got out, pants on, shirt off. He got out, drying his hair. He smelled like shampoo and soap combined, which pleased Mikan. But on another note, it took her a close ten seconds to react.

"Oh my God!" She shouted, turning her back. But turning her back was useless, she had good ten seconds staring at his lean body, wet hair and perfectly ironed pants. "Don't you get out of the bathroom fully dressed?"

"Do you?" Natsume asked simply. "Turn around."

"No."

"Rule number, whatever rule that is, you can never say no to me."

"This is against Rule number two, this is sexual harassment, what you're trying to do," Mikan shot back. Her heart was pounding against her chest bones and it was not good to have another look at his body, topless.

"If I were to sexually harass you, this wouldn't be it. Now turn around, you idiot," Natsume said. "I'm not half naked anymore. What's wrong with you?"

Slowly, Mikan turned around to find Natsume, simply buttoning his uniform on him. His face was blank, like he didn't really care if Mikan saw anything or not.

"You've been avoiding me," Natsume began as they walked in silence.

"I haven't been avoiding you," Mikan replied innocently.

In truth, she might have been deliberately avoiding Natsume for a week or two before the start of the Festival. It started with that Halloween costume he used three weeks ago. He was dashing, dressed as The Phantom of the Opera. Everybody knew how Natsume would look like when he got older and it killed Mikan to see that everybody was right. It seemed like a sin not to be attracted to him. He had mystery, he had intelligence, he had the perfect face and the perfectly lean body to give justice to his face, he was almost perfect. Only thing missing was a conversation. Being sixteen, Mikan felt vulnerable to his rugged look and untied tie. She didn't want to feel attracted to him but she felt like she had no choice. Ever since she realized that, she couldn't even face him.

"Maybe we had different classes so you don't see me around," Mikan followed in panic.

"We have the same classes, you idiot."

"Seriously? Would it kill you to talk decently?"

"It might. I don't want to take chances."

"Jerk. It's no wonder nobody likes you," Mikan lied. In truth, every girl wanted him, every boy wanted to be him but a small lie wouldn't hurt to make him change.

"I know everybody likes me," Natsume shot back confidently.

No matter how good-looking he was, a conversation with him was deadly.

"I don't," Mikan said. "I'm only here because of the rules. Speaking of, I'm forfeiting."

"Why?"

"This is going against Rule number four, this conversation is torture," Mikan replied simply. She realized two things at that moment, one was she was getting better with comebacks, and two was that she couldn't even look him in the eye.
Red was deadly. But he looked so good in the morning. His skin looked really soft and smooth up close.

"Funny," he commented sarcastically. "And you think you're opinion matters? You'll like me after this."

"After what?"

"This hell of a week of slavery," he replied without looking at her.

"Says who?"

"I did, loser. Because I know you, you're naive and easy," Natsume said. "Seven days would even be long enough."

"I will never like you, Natsume. You're perveted, you're mean, you're not good with conversations, you break every girls' hearts, you make it seem like you're so perfect when you're absolutely not!"

Natsume laughed hoarsely. "I can take that as a bet. I can make you want to be my slave longer than seven days."

Mikan's eyes widened. She realized he was more of a jerk than she thought. It takes one girl to prove him wrong and deflate his ego. "How much are we playing for?"

"A hundred rabbits."

If Mikan were drinking or eating something, she could have spat it out. But it wasn't the time to show her weakness even if a hundred rabbits would cost her three weeks of allowance and just four days for him.

"Make it two hundred!" she said. She assumed she would win, so two hundred rabbits equals one week and one day allowance, at least that would hurt him a bit, plus his pride.

Natsume smiled, that barely noticeable smile. "Two hundred's fine. Now, leave me alone."

For a moment there, Mikan forgot that she was his slave and she had to do what he wants. So with that, with a bet that costs Mikan six weeks of allowance, they separated to their own seats to start the day.