Perhaps…
by Autumn Win-Dow
…but the show must go on, nonetheless.
"Hello?"
"I heard what happened to Natsume. How's he faring?"
"He can't get out of bed. The cold is terrible."
"Have you given him any honey water? It'll make him feel a lot better…"
"I don't think he has any honey in his room…"
"Alright, I'll make some and bring it over after the play."
"Really? Are you sure? I could just run down to the store…"
"It probably isn't a good idea to leave him alone when he's so sick, though."
"…You're right. Thanks, Anna."
"No problem. And, about the play…"
"Yes?"
"Are we cancelling it? It might be a good idea, since Natsume probably wouldn't-"
"No, no… no. We can't cancel. Like they all say, the show must go on."
"Eh? But what about Natsume? It wouldn't feel good at all if he were to be sick and away during his own play-"
"But Anna, Natsume wouldn't want it all to go to pieces because of him. I'm certain that he would want it to go ahead as usual."
"…Even without him?"
"…yes. Without him. I'm sure his main concern when he wakes up would be if the play was a success."
"Sakura? How's Natsume? Has he woken up?"
"He has, but he can't stand up. His leg's fractured from the fall."
"Oh dear… I'm sorry I can't be there…"
"It's okay, he'll definitely understand your situation."
"I know, but do you think that it's a good idea to go ahead with this? I mean, if he isn't there-"
"Ruka, he's told me plenty and plenty of times that he would want to make sure that no matter what happens to him, the show will still go on. I don't really agree with it either, but the important thing is what the director wants to happen, and well, he's the director among all of us."
"…he seriously doesn't care about himself. He's selfless underneath that cold exterior of his."
"…I couldn't agree with you more."
"So… the show's going on as usual?"
"Of course! Unless, you're trying to find a way around dressing up as Snow White for the play?"
"Shut up."
"So, Hyuuga's been in an accident. Again."
"Please, don't even try to joke around, Hotaru."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Your tone isn't as flawless as you think…"
"…I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't."
"…"
"…"
"How is he?"
"He's had a concussion, but he's probably going to feel better in a week… I just find it utterly ridiculous that all these bad things happen to him, and only him."
"And like always, on the day of his production's performance debut."
"Never any other day."
"But the difference between today and any other day is that this one is a pretty big deal."
"He slaved over the script."
"Exactly. So it's a good idea if you tell the cast and production crew to call it off today."
"It has to go on."
"You can't be serious. You do understand that this 'the show must go on' sentiment of Hyuuga's is to protect his pride."
"But Hotaru! Even though it isn't obvious, he cares about everyone involved! When he told me why he would rather the show go on without him, I understood he was saying. Although he's the director, he would want his production to go on unscathed. Not for his sake, but for the sake of the cast and the audience… that's the kind of director he is."
"…You're completely in love with him, aren't you?"
"…"
"…"
"…I can't deny it."
"Mikan?"
"…Hi, Sumire."
"Oh, no. You called me by my real name. This isn't good."
"I thought you'd be glad."
"What on earth? How could I possibly feel an ounce of relief when- when something this terrible has happened?! Now that's low."
"…"
"…"
"Mikan, you're cryi-"
"W-we need to send the guests home. Right now. We can't let them wait any longer. There's no p-point."
"Mikan, I'll-"
"I'll get changed quickly, and-"
"Mikan. Stop."
"…"
"Koko and I will take care of all the technical matters. You stay where you are. Stay… with him. It's what you would prefer, right?"
"…I guess."
"…I'll call you later, okay?"
Mikan did not reply. Instead, she pulled her phone away from her ear. At that time, she completely understood how this time, it was different to the past times this had happened. Natsume would usually have said 'the show must go on', but this time, there was no show of his to go on.
This time, he was not a director – he was the protagonist.
The event had been planned by her, after all.
Salty tears began to soak through the lacy layers of her white dress.
A/N: HOLY SMOKES I'M RUSTY
I tried angst again. I feel that this is terribly cliched. Ack. I tried.