Disclaimer: I don't own Gakuen Alice. The image is from my friend Joshua Go's flickr. Check it out if you can. :)

Promises

That's a woman's love—it stands the test of time, logic, and all circumstance.
Steve Harvey

i.

Today's the third Sunday of the month, and like all third Sundays of the month for the past two years, I make my way to Akamari to visit Hotaru.

Akamari Institute of Mental Health is, in essence, a high-class hospital. It's a ten-storey structure with white-washed walls and glass windows that you can't see through if you're looking from the outside, and it's surrounded by lush, manicured and perpetually green gardens dotted with flowers and shrubs. If you ignore the occasional lunatic—I mean, mentally handicapped—throwing violent tantrums or dunking his head in the basin of a fountain, it's a pretty peaceful place, perfect for picnics and meditation.

"Mrs. Hyuuga!" Nurse Kaori greets me when I reach the front desk. "Here for Ms. Imai again?"

"You bet," I grin. "She's not scheduled for any counselling sessions today, is she?"

"Nope. She's already waiting for you, actually, in Room 113."

"Thanks!" I tell her. I make my way to the east wing, where they keep the more docile patients, and I see one of them in the hall—a slender woman in her fifties flanked by nurses on either side of her. She's wearing an elaborate ball gown fit for a costume party in the 1700s. She bows and gives me a dreamy smile, and not wanting to provoke her or anything, I just smile back at her and move on.

I reach Room 113 and I push the metal door open. The room is small and furnished only with a wooden table and two chairs; there are no decorations on the powder-blue walls. All visitor rooms are small and bare like this, so in case a patient gets violent, he or she won't have anything to throw around or to hurt others with.

"Did you bring my promised crab roe?" Hotaru asks once I step in the room. Her nurse leaves to give us some privacy.

I roll my eyes. "Hi, Hotaru. It's so very nice to see you again."

"Yes, I know." Her face is stoic and her violet eyes clear, as usual. It's the constant lucidity of her eyes that finally convinced the psychiatrists that she isn't insane, but even then they can't let her go until her three years here are up. In the meantime, they just allow her to have visitors once a month to keep her from really going insane. "Where's my crab roe?"

I sigh and take a spoon and three jars of gourmet crab roe out of my bag. "Here you are, your Highness."

She stands from her seat and snatches them from my hands. In fluid movements, she unscrews the cap of one jar, scoops some crab roe with the spoon, and puts it in her mouth. She sighs imperceptibly and closes her eyes.

"Don't I get a hug now?"

Hotaru chews slowly and savors the taste before she swallows and speaks. "No. And don't talk. Let me finish this is peace—they don't make crab roe here like this."

I watch her with a mixture of amusement and sadness as she digs in. She never said it out loud, but the only reason she prefers this specific recipe of gourmet crab roe over any other crab roe—even fresh crab roe—is because it's the recipe Ruka made especially for her.

ii.

Before Ruka Nogi and his miracle crab roe, Hotaru had never been in love. She'd never even been interested in boys or romance; things like that were too messy for her, she said, and she very much preferred the rigorous logic of her work over those.

Her career as an inventor started when she was just a fresh graduate from Tokyo University. She was given her own research and experiment lab by some rich guy named Wakamoto, and in return she had to present to him two invention proposals every three months, and an actual prototype every year. She never showed it, but she was extremely pressured by his expectations (even if he's actually a nice guy and wouldn't mind if she couldn't produce prototypes). So after graduation she locked herself up in her lab, and even if I lived with her I only saw her in the apartment twice or thrice a week.

"Hotaru, you can't live like this," I told her while she was packing fresh clothes from our apartment to bring to her lab. "You'll kill yourself if you work too much. I bet you don't even eat anymore."

"I do," she said without looking at me. "I eat seafood instant noodles."

"That's not a proper meal, Hotaru."

"Anything with seafood is a proper meal."

I huffed. "Hotaru, come on. You need a day off."

"Stop acting like my mother, baka."

"I'll treat you to that new seafood place down the street…"

Her hand paused in the middle of folding a shirt, but it was so brief that I had to convince myself I hadn't imagined it. It's always like that with Hotaru—I have to pay very close attention to her involuntary actions to be able to guess her feelings. It's hard, but after over a decade of being friends, my guesses have become more accurate.

"I have a prototype to finish," she said instead.

"Oh, that's too bad. Natsume's friend is a chef there and rumors say that he makes the best crab roe in all Japan…"

This time she stopped folding for real, and from the way she sat very still, I knew she was thinking hard. Then after a few minutes, she said slowly, "Alright. But you're paying."

So that's how we ended up at The Crab Shack. But how Hotaru ended up with kimchi and avocado shake on her hair and down the front of her blouse is another story.

Technically, it wasn't my fault. It really wasn't. Koko just happened to pass by our table, balancing four trays on his arms, and I was so surprised to see him that I slapped my hand on his shoulder in greeting. Everything that happened after that, contrary to popular belief, did not happen in slow motion; I felt like I had only blinked once and voila—Koko was sprawled on our table and Hotaru had kimchi on her hair and the floor was littered with crabs and ice cream and broken glassware.

Up to this day I can't remember how Koko lost his balance—a freak accident, he kept on saying—but I can vividly remember Hotaru's face. Her eyebrows shot up so high and her eyes were so large that she looked comical, and I would've laughed if the whole thing hadn't been so disastrous.

Koko recovered first. "I'm so sorry, Hotaru," he said, and he didn't sound sorry at all because he was holding his laughter in. As if he looked any more decent. "I'll—I'll go clean this up right now—"

"I'm going home." Hotaru's tone was frigid. "I expect I won't be asked to pay for our meal, which, by the way, still hasn't arrived even after the promised waiting period of fifteen minutes."

Koko glanced helplessly at me. I just shrugged and wiped the bits of shake off my face. "Don't tell me you expected any less of her."

"No, but she's still scary," he whispered back. "Geez, it was only an accident—"

Hotaru glared at him.

He gulped. "I mean, I'm sorry Ho—Miss Imai! Pleasepleaseplease have mercy on my soul…"

"What's going on here?"

All three of us turned to look at the speaker, a twenty-something man with his blue eyes, blond hair, and a six-foot build. He looked so foreign that it was difficult not to stare.

"Hello," he said. He gave us a warm, welcoming smile, and there was a sincerity in his air that I instantly liked. "I'm Ruka Nogi, head chef and manager of this restaurant."

"Ruka Nogi?" I repeated. So, this was Natsume's best friend... I would never be able to guess. "Do you know Natsume Hyuuga?"

"Of course. He's my best friend."

I beamed and held my hand out. "Mikan Sakura, his girlfriend. This is Hotaru Imai, who's my best friend."

He flinched a bit when his eyes met hers—it was actually a heroic feat that he didn't start cowering already, because Hotaru looked positively murdeous then—but he recovered quickly. "Pleased to meet you, despite these, er, unfortunate circumstances," he said to us both.

"You do realize," Hotaru said icily, ignoring his outstretched hand, "that I have the power to put your restaurant out of business, don't you? I have a considerable amount of influence on the public sphere."

Ruka paled. "W-we sincerely apologize for this accident. Please let us make it up to you—"

"I am dripping avocado and kimchi, Mr. Nogi, and I have to walk back to my apartment in this state."

"Well, you could wash up in our restrooms—and we could give you a free lunch tomorrow—and discounts on any item of your choice on the menu if you return—"

"I don't want to spend another second here, thank you very much. I'm going to call my lawyer once I get home. Good day, Mr. Nogi."

"Wha—Ms. Imai! Please wait!"

I watched in amusement as Ruka followed her out the restaurant and tried, in vain, to bargain with her. By now, almost all the patrons in the restaurant were staring at us, but I pretended not to notice them and their not-so-discreet commentary on what happened.

"I wonder how you put up with her," Koko said.

"Lots of love and practice," I replied. "So, are we just going to stand here looking like this?"

"You have a point," he chuckled. "You can go wash up. I have to clean this mess first."

When I finished drying the front of my shirt with the hand dryer, Ruka returned, looking terribly shaken.

"Oh, hi Ruka," I said. "Did Hotaru give you a hard time?"

"You have no idea," he breathed. "I know she's your friend and all, but she drives a hard bargain, that woman."

"What did she trick you into?"

"She said she'll try my crab roe tonight, and if she doesn't like it, she's suing us." He glanced at me. "You think you can convince her otherwise?"

I shook my head. "Hotaru never goes back on her word." When he groaned, I patted his shoulder and added, "Don't worry, she's a crab roe aficionado. If your crab roe is really as good as rumors say, then you have nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," he said weakly. "I guess I have to start preparing now…"

I went home and came back with Hotaru later on, at seven p.m. on the dot. Ruka had even closed the restaurant early for us, and he served us himself.

"Special Blue Crab Roe with java rice," he said with his strange—but pleasant-sounding—accented Japanese, and presented the still-smoking entrée to Hotaru. As usual, I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I didn't think it was a good sign that she looked unenthusiastic at the sight of crab roe. She was probably still pissed about the accident.

Ruka presented my dish to me—spareribs sprinkled with barbeque sauce and rosemary along with a side dish of mashed potatoes—before leaving to give us some privacy.

"It looks pretty good, Hotaru," I said, nodding to her dish.

"The color of the rice is too bland," she deadpanned. "And the crab roe isn't as aromatic as the ones I've tried in France."

"Er." I didn't know where Ruka was hiding himself, but I was pretty sure he could hear everything we said. And, as much as I love Hotaru, I was backing Ruka up on this one. "Well, you'll never know until you try it. I mean"—I took a huge bite of spareribs at this, hoping it would subconsciously encourage her to dig in as well—"this is pretty good to me."

"Everything tastes 'pretty good' to you," Hotaru said dryly, but she took a bite of crab roe anyway. She was still for a moment, chewing slowly, either savouring the taste or evaluating it.

"Well?" I said. "How is it?"

She took another bite. "I don't know," she said. "I can't seem to make out the ingredients of this properly. There's some thyme—I hate thyme—and oregano, but…" She took a third bite and criticized it, took a fourth bite and criticized it again…until I was staring at the cleanest post-meal plate I've ever seen in my life.

Ruka was smirking when he returned to thank us for dining there. "Did my crab roe pass your standards, Ms. Imai?"

"I'll spare your restaurant this time, Nogi," was all she said in response. Turning to me, she added, "Let's go. I've wasted enough time here."

Ruka and I shared a look. We both knew that she was so lying.

iii.

Hotaru had surprisingly contradicted herself by returning to The Crab Shack every day after that. I'd accompany her sometimes if I was free, and sometimes—okay, occasionally and when I forced him—Natsume would tag along for Ruka's sake. Whenever he was there, Ruka would take a few minutes off to talk to him and to tease Hotaru.

"How's the crab roe today, Imai?"

"Shut up, Nogi."

She never admitted to him that she had fallen in love with his crab roe at first bite, but Ruka knew it anyway. The only thing she ever ordered was his Special Blue Crab Roe, after all.

iv.

Hotaru finished her prototype in time, and five months later her HoloWatch was released. It was an instant hit. The sales were phenomenal—I heard from Yuu that the HoloWatch's sales in its first week were five times more than Apple's latest iPhone—so Hotaru was constantly being interviewed, and for five days after her invention's release, reporters were always swarming around our apartment.

When the fanfare finally died down, we threw her our own personal congratulatory party. I knew she hated parties, but I wanted her to know how proud we were of her. And anyway, I made sure to keep the crowd small (just ten people) and the crab roe abundant. But, when Hotaru entered our apartment for the 'surprise' party, a look of disappointment flickered across her face right after she had scanned the room. I knew instantly that she had been looking for Ruka, and he was probably the only one she wanted to see in that crowd that night.

I didn't tell her that I had invited him, though, and that I hadn't received a response.

After the party, Hotaru spent the rest of the night holed up in her lab, catching up with the work she was supposed to do during the party. So I was alone again in the apartment when the doorbell rang.

I glanced at the small screen near the door that projected an image of the person outside—Hotaru had installed a surveillance camera—and I was surprised to see Ruka's face on the screen.

"Hey, you!" I said when I opened the door. "Why didn't you come to the party?"

He groaned and ran a hand through his blond hair. He was still in his chef's outfit, and judging from his labored breathing and sweaty face, he just ran here from the restaurant. "There was a problem with the stove earlier… I still couldn't get it fixed," he said. "I'm so, so sorry. I really planned to come… Is Imai here?"

"She's in her lab. She's not coming out until lunch tomorrow for her daily crab roe," I said.

"Oh. Can you give this to her instead…?" He gulped nervously as he produced a bouquet of white roses from behind him—the big, expensive kind that had to be imported from other countries. I wondered vaguely where—and how—Ruka was able to buy this. "And please tell her that I'm happy for her success."

"Why not give them to her tomorrow?" I suggested.

"They might wilt already," he explained. "I kept them in the kitchen all day."

I laughed. "Oh, okay. Don't worry, I'll freshen them up before giving them to her."

I didn't get the chance to, though, because Hotaru returned to the apartment to get some coffee shortly after Ruka left. I told her that Ruka had dropped by to give her the roses, and I don't know why I was surprised when she frowned upon seeing them. "I hate roses," she said.

She put them in a vase in her room, anyway.

When I moved out after marrying Natsume, the roses were still on her bedside table, shrivelled and wilted but still whole and eerily beautiful.

v.

I planned a vacation for Natsume and myself one month after the release of HoloWatch, and somehow we ended up dragging Hotaru and Ruka along.

"Oh god, Ruka. Don't tell me you're bringing that mutt with us."

Hotaru stared at Ruka's golden retriever in disgust. She hated animals like she hated idiots (aside from me, I'd like to think), and she couldn't bear being in the same room with one.

Ruka immediately looked defensive. "His name is Piyo, Imai," he said. There was a steely edge to his voice. "I don't want to leave him alone in my flat for a week, so I'm bringing him along."

"Why not put him in an animal day care or something?"

"It's expensive. And besides, Piyo's harmless."

"Harmless? Nogi, dogs bite with an average force of 256 New—"

"Well, Imai, as long as you don't provoke him, he won't bite you."

"I don't care if that thing's provoked or not. That thing is still a potential danger to our lives."

I turned to Natsume, who was calmly loading a cooler into his Ford. "Do you think we should step in?"

"Nah," he said. "Ruka can handle it."

I glanced back at them. Hotaru's fists were clenched at her side, and Ruka's jaw was locked with tension. Even Piyo seemed to be getting agitated. "Are you sure, Natsume? I mean, they look like they're ready to kill each other…"

"Stop worrying, Polka," he grunted, loading my bag on top of his ("What the heck did you pack in here? Rocks?"). "That's just them releasing some built-up sexual tension. Now help me out here—I don't think your bag's gonna fit…"

Natsume was right. A few minutes later, their bickering died down, and I turned around to check if they were still alive. Turns out they were, alright—alive and kissing each other's lips off. Ruka's hands were on Hotaru's face, and hers were bunched at the front of his shirt. It was such a passionate public display of affection (and the first I've seen from the two) that it bordered on being indecent enough to make passersby blush.

"What the fu—"

I averted my eyes and slapped Natsume's arm before he could finish his sentence. "Shh," I said. "You're ruining their moment."

"They just ruined my eyes," he hissed, but mercifully he said no more.

They broke apart a few moments later, judging from the labored breathing that followed. Hotaru was the first to speak, and her voice was so husky that it didn't immediately register in my mind that she was the one talking. "Fine, the mu—Piyo can come along," she said. "But you're making me crab roe for the rest of the trip."

"Imai," Ruka said, his voice deep and quiet, "I'd cook you crab roe for the rest of your life."

. . .

Hotaru had kissed him first.

This conclusion came from a snippet of Natsume and Ruka's conversation in the patio of our quaint little resort cottage, which I had accidentally overheard when I brought them drinks.

It further confused me, though—if Hotaru had initiated the kiss, then why was she going out of her way to avoid Ruka? It was obvious that she liked him; the kiss was proof enough of that—Hotaru never did anything without some prior meditation, so even if the kiss looked like it had been spur-of-the-moment, she must have wanted to kiss Ruka for some time now…

I decided it was time for some serious girl talk with that woman.

I found her easily. She was in the kitchen eating the leftover crab roe from last night.

"Hotaru," I said. "I want to ask you something."

"I don't feel like answering whatever question you have in mind right now, Mikan," she replied in clipped tones, not even looking up at me when I took the seat in front of her.

I asked, anyway. "Why are you avoiding Ruka?"

"I am not avoiding him."

"Yes you are. You haven't spoken to him once in the past three days."

She shrugged. "What does it matter? I haven't spoken to Natsume once in the past three days, either."

"Hotaru, you don't just kiss someone like that and ignore his existence right after."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Who said I kissed anyone?"

"Stop denying it, Hotaru," I said calmly, even if I was quaking in fear on the inside. Hotaru had all sorts of blackmail material on me, and I bet she had no qualms of releasing all that to the public. "You're in love with Ruka. I mean, seriously—your eyes kind of shine when you see him, and you smile a little more often when he's there, and you don't spend as much time in your lab anymore."

She said nothing.

"Okay, I'll take your silence as a yes. What's wrong, then? Why ignore him? Is it really him you're ignoring, or your feelings?"

Her reply is so soft that I had to ask her to repeat it. "It's both," she said again, sharply. "You wouldn't understand."

"I've been friends with you for fourteen years," I said. "Try me."

Hotaru's eyes flickered to mine. Again she said nothing, but the confusion and fear in her eyes conveyed more to me in that brief moment than anything she could have said.

"You're afraid of love, aren't you?" I said. "You've never loved anyone before, so you have no idea what's going to happen if you ever get into a serious relationship. And I know you hate not knowing things. Am I right?"

Only the slight tremble of her right hand indicated that she had heard me, and that I was most likely right.

"Well, anyway, I really think you should give Ruka a try. He's a nice guy and he's honest and sincere."

She shrugged and finally spoke. "We'll see."

Later that night, before I went to sleep, I saw them walking on the beach from my window. They weren't hugging or kissing, but there was something romantic in the way his hand shyly touched hers; in the way their fingers twined, hesitantly at first, and then more resolutely later on.

vi.

For Hotaru's birthday, Ruka made her the first ever known recipe of preserved crab roe, which he had been working on it with Nonoko (a food chemist) for months. It took lots of research and hard work on their part to finally find the perfect combination of chemicals that preserved both the crab roe and its original "fresh" taste, so Ruka was understandably very, very nervous when the big day arrived.

"It's just a tentative recipe," he said when he showed Hotaru the jar. He was in our apartment to pick her up for their date, and he had decided to give her his gift right away for the sake of his frazzled nerves. "But I thought, you know, that if I made preserved crab roe, you'd be able to eat crab roe anytime you want to. I mean, I'll still cook for you and I enjoy cooking for you but—"

"Ruka," Hotaru said, "just let me try it."

He reluctantly handed her the jar, and he rambled on as she unscrewed the cap and took a spoon from the kitchen drawer. "If there's anything you don't like about it, just tell me. I mean, I can always remake it according to how you want it to taste…"

He didn't notice how Hotaru's eyes widened after her first bite or how quickly she polished it off because he was too busy rambling, and he only stopped talking when Hotaru put a finger to his lips. When he gave her a confused (albeit relieved) look, she wound her arms around his neck and whispered something in his ear that made him grin like a little boy.

I couldn't help grinning, too.

Ruka was able to sell his preserved crab roe recipe to a famous gourmet food company, but on the condition that a certain Hotaru Imai would always get hers free. He wouldn't sell it to them otherwise, and his recipe was so darn good that they complied with his absurd request.

Since then there were always boxes of preserved crab roe in our apartment. Hotaru hardly ate anything else, but despite the convenient substitute, she still ate lunch at The Crab Shack every day.

vii.

A few months after her birthday, Ruka told Hotaru that he was bringing her to meet his parents. She must've really wanted to impress them, because she spent a whole hour rummaging in her closet, looking for a dress to wear. Her search was futile, though—she had found only two dresses, one moth-eaten and the other two sizes too small for her (it was my mother's tenth birthday gift to her—I was surprised she still had it). Needless to say, they weren't very appropriate to wear to any occasion, much less to a dinner in a high-end restaurant with the parents of her first and only boyfriend.

"Mikan," she said, poking her dishevelled head out of the door to her room. There was a hint of desperation in her eyes. "I think I need your help. I need to go shopping."

I squealed loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and she nearly took it back. Only she couldn't, because she had no other female friend to turn to with my level of fashion expertise.

In the end, we decided on a one-shouldered, long-sleeved black slip that subtly emphasized all her curves. And, after some convincing, she also bought the skinny leather belt, suede pumps, satin clutch and silver earrings that I pointed out to her.

We had an hour to get her ready when we got back to the apartment, so Hotaru let me do her make-up. I went for the "natural" look, giving her only minimal amounts of blush-on, eye shadow and mascara, before finishing it off with glossy rose-pink lipstick.

"All done," I beamed, just as the doorbell rang. "Go knock 'em dead, Hotaru."

"Thank you, Mikan," she said quietly, and she gave me a brief hug before she left.

It took a few moments for my brain to process that Hotaru had just hugged me. For doing her make-up, no less—she never let me do her make-up, not even when she had business meetings with rich, important people.

I shook my head and smiled, thinking that Hotaru was definitely, unquestionably in love.

viii.

A few days after that date, Hotaru came to the apartment for the first time in awhile.

"Ruka and I broke up," she said.

At that point in time, I had expected her to say something like "My date with Ruka was fantastic! His parents absolutely adored me!" so her statement caught me completely off-guard. Especially the way she said it—her tone was so nonchalant it was as if she had just commented on the weather.

"WHAT?" I demanded to know. "How? Why? Hotaru, you looked positively stunning in the outfit I got you—Ruka's eyes just popped out when he saw you walk out our door—"

"It's not that, baka," she said, her tone even. "We decided that a long-term relationship wouldn't work for us, so we cut it off."

My jaw dropped. "That's ridiculous." I crossed my arms and tried to scrutinize Hotaru's face as she stirred her coffee, but she looked as stoic as usual. "He works just a few blocks away from our apartment, and you're obviously head-over-heels in love with each other, and I don't think you've ever fought over anything—"

"Mikan, just drop it." Her eyes flashed once. "We broke up. The end."

While I was processing this, she downed her steaming coffee in four gulps, motioned to her robot to grab a box of gourmet crab roe jars, and made her way back to her lab before I could bombard her with more questions.

It took me weeks to finally piece the story together, from the bits and pieces of information that Natsume (and occasionally Ruka) had let slip. Ruka had broken up with Hotaru apparently because he felt that there was a third party involved—her work—and that she never gave him enough time. She never seemed to listen to him when he told her stories about his day, and she hardly ever shared stories of her own. She also expected too much from him—like how she expected him to know all the foods that she was allergic to and all the things she hated and all her pet peeves—that he started feeling that he was perpetually trying to earn her love, and that all his efforts so far were in vain. "It's hard to love a cold bitch, Polka, and your friend is the worst of them," Natsume once told me bluntly, a sentiment that Ruka—and both his parents—echoed, albeit in a less crude manner.

I tried to convince Ruka that he was wrong—how could he not see that Hotaru loved him? Did he not know that she's never, ever had a boyfriend or a crush in her entire life, and that he was both to her at once? Did he not know that she still keeps the roses he gave her, even if she hates roses? Did he not know that she keeps all her pictures of him and never, ever lets anyone touch them? Did he not know that she listened to every favorite song of his, watched every favorite movie of his, and memorized everything else he loved and hated? Did he not know that she did all this because she was so terrified of being in love for the first time?

"No," Ruka had admitted. "I never knew most of that… But that's the point, Mikan—she never tells me how she feels. And I know she's not going to change that for me."

He was wrong, though. It wasn't that Hotaru would not change for him—it was that she could not change, period. Opening herself up completely to another person just wasn't her, and it never will be.

Thus I slowly lost hope of them ever reuniting again. Ruka already seemed to be moving on with his life by hitting on his bubbly, total-opposite-of-Hotaru female co-worker, while Hotaru refused to come out of her lab at all. In fact, the only indication I had of her existence was the robot that returned to the apartment once every three days to pick up another box of crab roe.

ix.

A month later, Hotaru finally emerged from her lab in time for the fitting of her maid-of-honor gown. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, and the tailor kept shaking his head while taking the measurements of her bone-thin arms and waist.

"Hotaru!" I gasped when I saw her. "Are you alright? Have you been eating? Are you sure you still want to be my maid-of-honor, because even if I don't want to find someone else to take your place, I'd respect it if you can't stand being so near Ru—"

"I'm going to be your maid-of-honor," she said firmly. "I promised you, remember? And I always keep my promises."

True to her word, Hotaru arrived promptly on my wedding day. She even helped me with my dress and went as far as to make small talk with some of my relatives if I couldn't entertain them at the moment, and she seemed completely civil towards Ruka. But hours later, during the reception, she came up to me with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry, Mikan," she said. "I have to leave."

I was immediately on my feet. "What? Why? You haven't even eaten yet—and the dance is just—oh." At that moment I spotted Ruka dancing with a brunette in pink silk. She was cute, but personally she wasn't as stunning as Hotaru in her billowing, purple chiffon gown. I wanted to strangle Ruka for not noticing that. "Oh, Hotaru… I can find you a better-looking partner…"

"No," she said. "Please just let me leave."

She sounded so resigned that I had to give in.

"Alright," I said. "Thanks for everything, Hotaru. I mean it. And don't let this get to you."

"Of course not," she replied, but when she reached the double doors, she lifted a hand to her eyes to wipe her tears away. I was torn between running to hug her and letting her be, but her tears were gone just as soon as they had come. I don't need your pity, she seemed to say. She straightened herself again and held her chin high as she walked away, regal in billowing purple chiffon, regal in her sorrow.

x.

After I moved out of the apartment I shared with Hotaru, I barely saw her anymore. She became more reclusive and distant to the point that no one in our circle had any news on her personal life anymore (we always had news on her inventions—they were always featured in the papers—but hardly anything was ever mentioned about Hotaru, except that she was on her way to being a millionaire at twenty-five). I left her voicemails and e-mails and holo-mails, but all she ever replied to me was, "I'm glad you're enjoying married life. Stop worrying about me, baka. I'm fine."

I only found out how right I was to worry about her on the day of Ruka's accident.

The Crab Shack had burst into flames that night, the cause of which was later found to be a defective stove. Ruka was unfortunate enough to be nearest to the stove at that time; his body bore the gruesome third-degree burns to prove it. Half of his face had also been charred by the fire, so when we visited him in the ICU he was covered in gauze from head to toe. Had the nurse not confirmed that the body before us was indeed Ruka Nogi, we would never have guessed it was him.

"Is he going to live?" Natsume asked the nurse, his voice strangled and hoarse from keeping the tears at bay.

The nurse hesitated for only a moment. "We can keep his heart beating, sir, but he's technically brain-dead, most probably from the lack of oxygen in the fire. There's still some chance that he'll regain consciousness, but I wouldn't count on it."

Natsume cursed. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, he asked the nurse if he could spend five minutes alone with Ruka, and the nurse agreed. I respected that he needed to do this alone, so I waited for him outside the ICU and called Hotaru to tell her the news.

She arrived in the hospital minutes later, looking so frightfully pale and thin that she seemed anorexic. There were dark circles under her large, wild eyes and smudges of dirt on her hands and her clothes. The uneven, jagged layers of her hair indicated that she had just chopped the long ends off instead of going to a salon to have them cut properly. But despite her haggard, skeletal appearance, the tone she used when she spoke was still flat, cool, and composed. "Mikan," she said, "can you come with me to see him? I'll only take awhile."

I agreed, and when I moved to hold her hand, she didn't swat it away.

When I showed her Ruka, she tensed visibly and stayed rooted to that spot for a long time. After what seemed like hours, she let go of my hand, approached his side, and slowly, cautiously took his bloody gauze-covered hand in hers. Her left hand hovered above his face, tracing his features, remembering the curve of his brows and cheeks and the shape of his blue eyes. Her bony finger finally settled on where his lips were supposed to be, and, with tears forming in her eyes, she let out quiet, harrowing sobs that tore at my soul:

Ruka, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you…

xi.

Ruka died a week later.

The doctors and nurses were puzzled when he did—the machine was supposed to keep his heart beating indefinitely—but we weren't. We didn't want him to die, but death was the best way out of his suffering, so we all accepted his passing peacefully.

I said my goodbyes to him in the hospital just after Natsume did, and then I made my way to Hotaru's lab to tell her the news. When the metal door to the entrance slid open, I was surprised to see Hotaru herself standing before me instead of the usual robot escort she sent to receive her guests.

"Hotaru," I started. "Ruka…"

Her hand trembled. "I know," she whispered, her hollow eyes already filled with stubborn tears that would not fall. "I know."

I knew I had to be strong for her, but I couldn't stop my tears from falling. "Oh, Hotaru," I said, opening my arms wide for a hug that she surprisingly reciprocated. "Oh, Hotaru…"

I hugged her tighter until I could feel her ribs under my fingers, prominent even under her thick sweater, and I cried on her shoulder. She did not shed a tear, but later on, when I saw the humongous pile of empty crab roe boxes in a corner of her lab, I knew she had already mourned him the only way she could.

xii.

Before Ruka's body was sent to be cremated, the doctors ran one last test on him and found out that, indeed, his death wasn't "natural"—someone had murdered him with a large dose of poison.

Ruka's parents were in hysterics when they found out, and Natsume was beyond indignant. "I swear," he growled, "when I get my hands on the murderer I'll feed him the poison myself…"

But finding the murderer wasn't easy. The police had to obtain a list of all the companies, laboratories, and factories that were licensed to manufacture, distribute or experiment with the poison, and while waiting for that list they interviewed every person acquainted with Ruka. They called us in a few times, and they interviewed Ruka's girlfriend, co-workers, parents… virtually every person who had visited him at the estimated time of the poisoning. None of us seemed to have the means or motivation to kill him, though—all of us were betting on the 30% chance of him regaining consciousness—so the police couldn't even come up with a list of suspects.

All that was left to do was to wait for the results of the search. That came out five days after the start of the investigation, and it was a surprisingly short list, with only seven companies on it.

Unfortunately, one of them was Imai Laboratories.

The police had somehow overlooked Hotaru when they first called for interviews. It was no surprise, since she was such a recluse, but when her lab showed up on their search results, she was immediately brought in for questioning.

Hotaru confessed to the crime easily within the first five minutes of interrogation.

I refused to believe it. I did everything I could to try to convince the police that she would never do such a thing—tried to convince Hotaru that she couldn't do such a thing—but my efforts were futile; her own verbal confession was the key evidence against her. Soon she called her lawyer to defend her for the hearing, set to take place in a few days.

Natsume was strangely subdued throughout the whole ordeal. After their long history of mutual dislike, I expected him to react more violently, but he didn't speak a single spiteful word against her. When we saw her on the day of the hearing, he even wished her luck and added, "He made you promise, didn't he?"

Hotaru gave him a bitter smile. "Yes, that selfish bastard."

There was a mixture of pity and admiration in Natsume's eyes. "I can't believe you kept it."

"I had to," she replied. "I always keep my promises."

Later on Natsume would tell me the exact words of that promise ("If I ever get into an accident and fall into a coma, promise me that you won't try to keep me alive anymore—just kill me fast instead") and why Ruka had made him and Hotaru promise him that ("It's my greatest fear to be in a coma—being alive yet unable to do anything at all, even think—it must torture to live in between life and death") and why he had never really told anyone this ("Most people wouldn't understand"), but I had forgotten to ask all after their brief exchange, since the hearing was already starting then. Hotaru's lawyer tried an appeal on euthanasia, but the jury wouldn't buy it; so he worked on a plea of insanity instead. Surprisingly, the jury found that more believable, and Hotaru was sentenced to three years in Akamari instead of a death sentence or a lifetime in jail.

"I can't believe he got you off on insanity," I whispered to Hotaru after the hearing. "I mean, it's better than jail, but you don't look or act insane at all."

"But I do," she said, so seriously that she couldn't possibly be joking. "Love made me do it, and love is insanity."

The case was publicized, sometimes even scandalized; Hotaru was believed to be insane by most, but she had won the sympathy of a few. After all, she had only wanted to put Ruka out of his suffering, and she was the only one who loved him enough to do it.

xiii.

"So, Hotaru," I tell her now, "you'll be released in three months or so. What'll you do next?"

She pauses eating to think, as if she had never thought of it before. "Well," she says slowly. "Maybe I should start living again…"

"Living again?" I echo.

"Yes." She contemplates on whether or not she should open the second jar, and in the end she decides not to. "I died the day I killed him, Mikan."

"You didn't kill him," I insist. "You did what you had to do."

"Which was to kill him," she repeats flatly. "I expected a death sentence then. It would've ended my suffering too."

"Hotaru…" I soften towards her, and my gaze lands briefly on her scarred wrists. Because she deemed me her closest "relative" (touching, I know, but both her parents are dead and her only aunt is somewhere in America), her nurse disclosed to me that she had tried to kill herself a few times during the first few months of her stay, but something always seemed to stop her. I suspect it's another promise Ruka made her keep, but I never asked her about it; it seems like something she'd want to keep to herself.

"Hotaru," I say, more resolutely this time. "Promise me that you'll start 'living again' once you get out of here."

"Didn't I already say that?"

"Yeah, but I want you to promise me."

The corners of her lips lift into a wry smile, and she shakes her head at me.

"Alright," she says. "I promise."

end

A/N: This was partly inspired by Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily" and a debate we once had in Bible class about euthanasia. I'm neutral on that, but I know someone who made the choice to "pull the plug", so to speak, from a loved one in a coma. So what did you think of it? Please leave a review! Oh, and you can also check out The Revolution's forum for contest details and other cool stuff. Thanks for reading!