Title: Like Brittle Glass

Genre: Drama / Angst

Ratings: PG-13

Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to Tachibana Higuchi.

Summary: When ignorance is not bliss, it becomes downright cruel. All Natsume wanted was to keep her safe and happy. Somehow, that simple wish becomes much more difficult than he ever thought it would.

Spoilers: It's all pretty vague but it's generally chapters 46 – 50, 75+ to be safe.

Readability's a 73.5. Now that's not too bad.

HNO3: There is just something about the purity of their attraction – Natsume's and to a smaller extent, Ruka's that attracts me. It is like sweet honey to a bee and I've just about fallen for this pairing hook line and sinker. Perhaps it is because of Mikan and her sheer obliviousness, or Ruka's gentleness or most importantly, Natsume's protectiveness. It just makes my heart swell to watch them interact, and I just can't help but fan girl about them all the time. And yes, you might have realized that I am terribly biased towards the Natsume and Mikan pairing. He's really like a knight on white steed, if you put the story into a medieval context, and Mikan is like the damsel in distress – albeit a rather oblivious and scatterbrained one. And yes, so I love this pairing – to bits! To bits I tell you!


It hurt to watch him hurt – that was the first thought that ran through her simple mind as she stood there, feeling helpless as he laid on the pristine white sheets of the hospital bed, every breath he drew a hoarse rattling sound that brought tears to her eyes. He was always in the hospital; his visits so frequent they had a permanent ward for him on the fourth floor. Somehow, that particular observation sent a pang through her chest and her lips trembled with the onset of tears. Sniffling noisily, she tried to blink them away, finally resorting to wiping them roughly on the sleeve of her school uniform.

She would not cry for him – she resolved, determination flashing in her wet eyes.

It took her a moment to realize that he was awake, one red eye cracking open to stare at her unabashedly. She met his gaze steadily, neither of them making a move to break the relative silence of the room. The tension in the room escalated, becoming almost stifling. She could almost feel the hairs on her back stand on end.

Breaking away from his emotionless stare, her eyes flitted to the white tiled floor as she fought to put a smile on her face. "You're awake," she stated rather cheerfully, the happiness in her voice sounding painfully fake as her voice breached the tensed silence of the room.

He turned to look at the ceiling; as if he was unimpressed with her display of false cheer. Moments passed, the second hand of the clock ticking in the most resounding way she had ever heard.

"What're you doing here?" he asked uncaringly as he graced the whitewashed ceiling with his blood-red eyes, unwilling to even look at her.

The familiar anger bubbled and threatened to rise but she forced it down – as she always had when she was attempting conversation with him. And like every other time, she took comfort that at least, at least this was familiar. At least this remained unchanging, even as Natsume's disappearances increased and the sight of him on the hospital bed looking pale and pained became too familiar to her eyes. At least this remained unchanging, even when he started to ignore her instead of gracing her with his cool, distant attention. At least some things stayed the same.

"I…" she opened her mouth to reply, only to have the realization hit her that she had no excuse, no reason to visit him. Her mouth closed with a click as she stood there dumbly, etching his once-familiar profile into her memories, recognizing not for the first time that she missed him.

He turned, finally fixing her with nonchalant red eyes the color of dying embers. She squirmed; his heavy gaze somehow becoming foreign to her over the time he spent ignoring her. Her anger spiked at that thought and instead of curbing it, she wrapped it around herself like a large velvet cloak.

"I'm your partner, aren't I?" she snapped, hands fisting by her side. "Why can't I be here?" Tearing her gaze from him, she glared at the wall.

He sighed; a pained weary sound that clenched at her heart. "I don't want you here," he said evenly; voice strained.

Her eyes snapped back to his, shock written all over her features. She didn't really expect an answer. And to be completely honest, she didn't want an answer. She wanted him to drop the issue and let her stay, to just let her watch him. He couldn't even grant her that.

"You should leave," he continued even as he turned his eyes back to the ceiling, as if he couldn't even bring himself to look at her.

That particular thought stung. Her eyes narrowed, relishing in the dark anger that she'd wrap around herself instead of the evident pain in her chest. "I thought we're friends," she said bitingly, vaguely noticing that her voice was quivering and her cheeks damp. When did her tears start falling?

He refused to look at her, and if she hadn't been glaring at him through spilled tears, she would have seen his body tense. "I thought-" she broke off, voice cracked. The tears continued to fall, but she refused to wipe them away. The last thing she was willing to do was acknowledge she cried for him again.

I thought that we were more than that, she wanted to say, the searing memory of trees and Christmas and soft lips against hers. I thought I was allowed to care, she wanted to confess, but that would mean handing her heart to him on a silver platter which she knew - with all the certainty in her heart, that he would think it nothing.

"You should leave," he repeated tonelessly, not even bothering to spare her a sideways glance.

A soft sob escaped her parted lips even as she tried to control her tears. She took a step back, hitting the wall. Sliding down to the floor, she glared at him, fingers digging into her raised knees. "No," was her stubborn reply.

He turned his back to her – an obvious dismissal. "Suit yourself."

She didn't know how long she sat against the wall, glaring at his back for all he was worth, but it probably hadn't been very long since her tears were still cascading down her cheeks like a miniature waterfall. He hadn't moved, and she figured he was asleep. A long tired sigh escaped her parted lips. Curling into herself, she rested her chin on her knees, shifting her gaze to the white tiled flooring.

"I don't know what happened," she began conversationally, "but one day…I woke up and the next thing I knew, you hate me." She hugged her knees tighter, pressing her cheek on her knees. "I don't even know what I did," she said; a sad smile gracing her cracked lips. "At first, I thought it was just me. I thought…maybe I was hallucinating or something," she paused, frowning, "because I mean…if you hate me, you wouldn't have danced with me…not even to oblige Ruka."

"But time passed, and you never talked to me anymore." Her voice was sad and a solitary tear splashed onto her knee. "I thought maybe…it was something I did, you know," she mused; large brown eyes tracing imaginary circles on the floor. "But…the thing is…I don't know what I did. I'm not smart like you or Hotaru, but…I think my brain's enough for me to figure out when I did something wrong."

She paused, raising her eyes to meet his back, as if to make sure he was still sleeping. Returning her gaze to the previous position, she continued to speak. "And it's not like I could ask…I mean, you never gave me a chance to. You won't even acknowledge me," she finished off sadly; a resigned tone in her voice.

She sighed, tilting her head to rest against the wall as she gazed at the ceiling. "So I thought…if that's the case, then it's okay. It's okay." Her mouth twisted. "But it's not okay. It's not okay because in the end…you're still my friend."

The words rang in the otherwise silent room, a sense of finality about them.

"You're my friend," she repeated softly, tears starting to pool in her eyes once more. "And you're always disappearing, you're always hurt," her voice cracked as a stifled sob escaped her lips. "You're always in pain." She paused, the anger in her boiling. "You're always in this damn room!" her voice escalated, uncaring of any nurses and doctors that might enter to chase her away. "You're always here…" she repeated in softer tones. "You're always here and I can't do anything about it!"

Angrily, she scrubbed at her face, intending to remove all traces of tears. She would not cry for him. "What did I do?" she asked hoarsely. "What did I do to make you hate me?" Stubborn tears splashed to the floor, and she quickly dashed them away with a brush of her hand. "Why won't…why won't you let me care?" she said plaintively, her voice cracking as she curled into herself, sobbing.

Silence permeated the room, interrupted by the tick of the second hand and her irregular hiccups as she sat there brokenly, the anger having evaporated long ago, leaving behind only pain. So when the nurse came in and told her to leave, she obeyed, walking out of the room without a backward glance; the only traces of her splashes of tears on the white tiled floor.

In the room, anguished red eyes stared unseeingly at light blue curtains, knowing full well that the sounds of sobbing will haunt his dreams in the nights to come.

Nitric Acid 2007


HNO3: So how's it for a first? I get this feeling Mikan's really OOC in here, and that's so not good... I need feedback.