Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice copyright © Tachibana Higuchi, 2003

Psh, I don't own the song that inspired this story, either.

*sighs* This one's pretty light, and I'd say I pretty much felt light and happy when I wrote it. (If I could be any more light and happy, I'd be high. Oh yes.)

Dedicated to Darkest Temptation, my newest FFN buddy. (:


Picture Perfect

by foxtrotelly

(: (: (:

Take me back to the house in the backyard tree,

Said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me,

You never did, you never did.

Take me back when the world was one block wide,

I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried,

Just two kids, you and I,

Oh my my my my…

Taking a deep breath, Natsume leaned back and shut his eyes. He rested his hands behind his head and resorted to not propping his feet on the table (doctor says it wasn't good for him, yada yada), dozing off for a while.

The sound of the screen door opening caused him to sit up.

"Would you like some tea? It's pretty cold out."

Natsume turned to the voice and contemplated on keeping a stoic expression. Apparently, he did so to hide his awe.

Wrinkles were one thing, but that never kept him from admitting that Hyuuga Mikan was a person who had aged gracefully over the years. Even in her late senior years, she never failed to impress and turn heads with her radiance and forever bright brown eyes. She had silky gray hair that she'd always fix up in a tight, neat bun fastened with a colorful ribbon or two, as if age wasn't a factor that stopped her from doing so.

Her husband found himself smiling because he once again thought of how being eighty-something was something his wife could pull off quite perfectly. She was beautiful, but not very flawless – and he loved her just that way she was.

"Sure." She started moving towards him.

In contrast to her usual clumsiness, she taught to assert herself in a poised and refined manner to avoid accidents and injuries – things she couldn't afford in her old age. He watched her walk over to him and take a seat beside him, setting the tray on the table in front of them. Mikan poured some tea for Natsume and herself. She offered one cup to him. He took it gratefully and had a long sip. She did the same, not sparing a glance at him but still keeping close.

They sat in a comfortable silence the old couple had grown accustomed to throughout their whole lives. In some way, instances like this reminded Natsume of the times he'd sit with her under the Sakura tree where they would mind their own business or when they would have quiet strolls through quaint parks long before little Natsuki had learned to speak.

It took fifteen minutes, however, to make Mikan remember something that suddenly made her dart inside the house.

Natsume raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly to himself. He could swear it was the spontaneity from moments like these that kept their bond unforgettable and worthwhile.

Mikan appeared through the door with a photo album in her hands a few minutes later. She was smiling Natsume's favorite smile, making his lips curve up in a slight smile back. "What have you got there?"

"It's an album; you know, those binders with the sticky pages and plastic, see-through sheets where you place your pictures," she told him informatively as if he forgot what an album was. "I found it in the bread box, uhh, I mean the fruit basket."

Natsume frowned. "I know what an album is, you idiot." Then something hit him, making him raise both of his eyebrows. Bread box meant Howalon box. Shoot. "I thought the doctor said to lay off the fluff puffs?"

She stood there for a while, looking appalled and gasped, "Natsume, how could you? You know I'll never sneak a fluff puff from the bread box even if they're so sweet, and soft, and delicious…" Her eyes seemed dreamy, making Natsume unsure if she knew that she was smacking her lips and licking her fingers or not.

"Hey," Natsume called, "care to sit down and show me what's in the album?"

Mikan's head jerked down, and she blinked, "Wha – Oh, yeah. Sure, of course." She sat down beside him. She placed the olive, leather-bound album on the table and opened it. There they saw a picture of themselves from twenty years ago sitting on the front porch with a note stuck to it.

Happy Anniversary, Dad/Sir/Ojii-chan/Natsume-nii/Hyuuga/Natsume and Mom/Obaa-chan/Mikan-nee/Mikan!

Love,

Natsuki, Yuto, Keiko, Aoi, Hotaru/Imai, Ruka

"Aww, how sweet…" said Mikan, flattered. "They remembered our anniversary."

Natsume snorted, "Which was two weeks ago."

"Well, at least they got us a gift, unlike somebody who presumed that granny panty coupons were the perfect wedding anniversary present," she spat.

Natsume opened his mouth and closed it again, then said, "Who keeps albums in bread boxes anyway? I mean, who even uses albums these days, anyway?"

Mikan narrowed her eyes at him. "You're unbelievable, aren't you? Besides, bread boxes used as Howalon boxes happen to be very… thoughtful hiding places."

"Just like random rabbit taverns and secret passages that lead to secret basements," said Natsume sarcastically.

"We have a basement?"

"We do now."

"So what did you do with the secret passage that leads to the secret basement?"

"I covered it with a rug," Natsume replied, apparently proud of himself.

Mikan sat back, dumbfounded. "So that explains the big, gaping hole in the kitchen…"

Natsume looked at her for a while before reaching for his glasses and snatching the photo album from her hands.

"H-hey! I thought you said you didn't like albums?"

"I said people are stupid for using albums – that never meant I didn't want to look at this one. 'sides, the only reason I'm even bothering to look at this is because it's from our daughter and her daughter."

Mikan nodded slowly, putting on her glasses as well. Her face lit up and she grinned, "You miss our little Natsuki, don't you?"

"I never said I didn't."

"Who knew that the Hyuuga Natsume could ever have a soft spot?"

"I never said I denied that."

He flipped to the next page and was faced with three pictures from their wedding day.

One picture showed them sharing a sweet kiss at the altar, another of Mikan (forcefully) feeding Natsume some cake (oh how he hated sugar). The last one was a picture of them both holding hands in their garden reception; Natsume with a rare smile in his handsome features, Mikan in her simple wedding dress, more beautiful than usual with her same bright smile and a hand on her huge belly. The picture occupied a whole page together with a piece of yellowing stationery with a commentary in Hotaru's elegant handwriting below it.

Hyuuga Natsume and Sakura Mikan got married on a beautiful, late summer September day. They exchanged vows at a simple chapel wedding and fed cake to each other in a quaint garden reception. The time they were wed, the groom wore a suit and a smile while the bride wore a lovely white dress with flowers in her hair, pregnant with their first child.

She was the sun, he was the moon. Though quite the opposites, they loved each other very much.

And they were beautiful.

Signed,

Imai Hotaru

A warm smile broke through Mikan's face. Natsume looked at her and felt the love she had for her best friend. He was aware of the fact that Mikan deeply missed Hotaru, but this was something he deeply understood because he knew he would feel the same towards Ruka too.

Though reluctant to ruin her little moment, he turned to the next page, where he saw pictures back from the academy days. From candid Ruka photos to stealth shots of Misaki-sensei, it had everything that documented their lives in the Gakuen – a majority of them courtesy of Hotaru. There were shots of the gang at Central Town, a picture of Natsume sleeping (he personally cringed at that), and Mikan enjoying a fluff puff.

]

He stared at them for a while, shocked.

"What's got you so stunned?" Mikan suddenly said.

He forgot how startlingly handsome he was when he was a kid. "I looked good when I was younger."

"Psh, says who?"

"Says these girls," Natsume pointed to a picture of fangirls flocking his and Ruka's table.

"You're fangirls were never that smart anyway," Mikan huffed.

"Right, and so were you." He looked at a picture of her doing a face plant on the floor with him in the background, looking bored.

Gasp. "Natsume! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Cabbage patch." Smirk.

Blush. "How about we turn to the next page?"

Natsume did so, still smirking, and found a gang ten-year olds smiling back at him. He took in all of their faces.

There were Kitsuneme and Koko with the same identically-goofy grins plastered on their faces, and Mochu sulking away in the corner, together with Tsubasa, Narumi, and Misaki who were barely blending in with the group of class 2B students. Permy was there, being her usual clingy self as she held onto Ruka who's had the same charm ever since. Yuu and Hotaru were there too; Yuu smiling that kind, Iinchou smile, and Hotaru with that rare, genuine smile. Then there stood Mikan, cheerful and bright, just the way she was, right beside Natsume who was carrying Youichi, unabashed as ever.

"You were never the type to smile much, huh?" she mused.

Natsume was still looking intently at the picture. "Who knew there was another copy of this thing?"

"Natsuki told me you gave her this picture when she was six. She knew you loved this picture so much that she decided to give it back to you."

Natsume couldn't help but succumb to the growing urge to smile, which was Mikan's cue to turn the page.

On the entirety of two pages were pictures of Natsuki from her early toddler years to her teenage braces period and even up to her graduation. Another picture was an image of Natsuki and Mikan, sitting on the front porch with the same chestnut brown locks and dazzling smiles, whilst a photo of her and Natsume showed the both of them sitting under the big Sakura tree in their backyard.

A surge of memories went through Natsume, making him miss his daughter even more. He flipped the page. They paused for a moment.

"Natsuki made such a beautiful bride, didn't she?"

Natsume nodded, not knowing what more to say. He stared at the picture for a while and recalled something he told Yuto just days before the wedding:

"If you ever do something as so much to wipe that smile off my daughter's face, it would become something to regret. Make her the happiest person and you can call me 'Sir', son."

It was evident that his tone was foreboding. But then, he also had his command. He wanted his daughter to be happy, and so Yuto kept to his word. Now, he had every right to be his son.

"You were never too easy on him, you know?" Mikan said, as if reading his mind.

"Any person who dares to lay a hand on my Natsuki will never be taken for granted," Natsume replied condescendingly.

"But you know what? I was proud of you when you handed her over to Yuto and gave them your blessing. It was one of the noblest things you've ever done in your life."

"He's now my son. There's nothing more to it," he shrugged, aloof.

The wind picked up, having Mikan wrap her shawl tighter around her. Natsume noticed this and moved closer to her.

"Natsuki's been mighty lucky to have a father like you," Mikan suddenly said out of the blue. Natsume shifted his gaze from Mikan to the picture she was looking at.

It was a photo of him cradling a newborn Natsuki in his arms. The memory of it made him smile and feel the same wave of affection and unconditional love that instantly knocked down his defenses when he first held his daughter.

He watched her fingers trail through the pictures until it came to rest on a picture of her lying beside Natsuki just hours after her birth. As he looked at it, Natsume couldn't help but note Natsuki and Mikan's angelic features.

"She's been lucky to take after such a lovely mother too."

From beside him, he sensed the warmth that radiated from Mikan's smile. He looked up from the album, letting his eyes meet hers.

"You miss her." Her big, brown eyes were tender and compassionate.

"Yeah. But contrary to what you said, our Natsuki's not so little anymore, you know," he simply said.

"I know. She has a family now," she gestured to a picture of Yuto, Natsuki, and little Keiko outside their charming village cottage.

"Then why call her little?" Natsume asked.

Mikan sighed resolutely, "Because I don't want to feel like she's slipping away from us and leaving us behind."

He slightly frowned for a bit, then gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure she's not. We didn't raise Natsuki to be that kind of person."

"You're right. She loves us, just as much as we love her," Mikan nodded as she turned to the next page. Natsume let his gaze linger at her for a while before finally having it rest on pictures that were almost too recognizable for their own good.

And they both noted at what they saw. Mikan ran a hand through one page, a fit of fond chuckling escaping from her lips. Natsume simply looked at the picture and grinned to himself.

"Imai looked ruthless, even as a young kid."

"Aoi was such a cutie even back then," Mikan murmured adoringly. "Aww, and Ruka's so adorable with that oversized jersey of his."

"Tch."

Mikan gaped at him and teased him playfully, "Are you actually jealous of Ruka?"

Natsume turned away and folded his arms over his chest. "Hn."

She shook her head in light disbelief, and sighed good-humoredly, "I can't believe I'm still in love with the same arrogant jerkwad I've met under such unfortunate circumstances when I was ten."

"Too bad you've been in love and happily married with that same arrogant jerwad for fifty years already."

"Yeah, too bad," she giggled – unmindful of how weird it sounded coming from a woman her age – and rested her head contentedly on her husband's shoulder.

In a slow flourish, Natsume's withered hand reached for Mikan's equally pruned one. Together, they flipped to the last page.

For a while, they just sat there and looked at the album on their laps. They did this in silence and contentment, a certain kind of peace surrounding just the two of them. For right beside that picture of two babies – one crimson-eyed and raven-haired, the other with brown curls to match her hazel eyes – holding hands on their high-chairs, were the words "True love is forever".

And perhaps, that was the way it was ought to be.

And I'll be eighty-seven, you'll be eighty-nine,

I still look at you like the stars that shine in the sky,

Oh my my my my…

Mary's Song (Oh My My My) – Taylor Swift


That was it. :) And no, I won't be writing a sequel to this. Haha, in fact, I planned this story for so long that I decided on doing a prequel! *sniffles dramatically* Be sure to watch out for I Wanna Grow Old With You, ok? 'Kayy. ^_____^

May I interest you with a review? :)