I'd like to extend my thanks to Twelve Winterflowers for patiently looking into this piece. She really did a very good job. So I've decided to dedicate this to her as well, as a sign of my thank you. :)

SEVEN WISHES

"Hearts breaking, everything changing

Seven wishes, all for a dream."

Chapter One | REMNANTS OF THE PAST

If only she'd left a long time ago.

If only she'd expressed her feelings more.

If only he wasn't that much of a bastard.

If only he was honest with her, with himself.

If only…

Then, everything would've been alright.

But, all of those are just "if onlys". Nothing but doubts and uncertainties. Never exact. Never certain. Never clear.

Like a fragment of a shattered mirror which reflected a piece of you. But never the whole you. You tried to piece it back. Still, it would never be complete. Never exactly as it once was. Even with all those wounds you receive from trying to keep it whole, it remained broken. Just that. Broken.

A lost picture.

Yes. That is probably the right term to describe them. What they came to be. And even if Mikan did everything she could to mend it, it seems as if it is too late. She tried. Really! Even just a little portion of their past –who they both once were. She made her way into completing it like a jigsaw puzzle. But like that smashed mirror covered with moist, the image not just became incomplete. It was also unclear. The past. The present. And its possible future.

But come what may, she knew what she'll eventually choose. And that is to stay. She resolved to cling into every possibility than leave him alone. It was never a hard decision for her. She knew what would make her heart happy.

Being with him.

People had always told her to leave him, before he left her first. He doesn't need you, they would say. But she always found reasons to contradict them. Reasons which she thought would be enough to reignite the old flame.

He was actually given chances to leave her a lot of times. She would answer. Chances like a call from the family. Or he could just simply kick her out of the house. A lot of choices were laid right in front of him. He only had to choose if he wanted to. But he didn't. For what reason? She doesn't know. But that small mysterious act gave her hope of their possible reunion. Though it would be more of a faint wish, a dream, than of a hope.

But she held on.

A promise. A chance. That was what kept her clinging to him all those months.

Even though the truth was already right in front of her, she chose to ignore it and be blinded by her wishful thinking. Wishing the past would reincarnate itself; that those happy memories would soon take over this helpless situation. But it never did. It never will. It was nothing more than a remnant, a small relic of what they had and of the moments they shared. But it could never be a present. Never a gift.

Weeks had passed since everything changed. Or, more like, almost three weeks since everything returned back to what it normally should be.

This happened on the eve of October, a few days after their anniversary. It was when Natsume realized what a boring person she really is. No fun. No game. And he needed to find a new addiction before her dullness infected him. The first idea that got into him was drinking. He drank almost every night, in a bar along with his friends. When he returned back home during the early mornings, he made a mess of the house. Breaking vases and or disarranging things Mikan had just tidied up the day before. He indulged himself in smoking some time after, creating a bigger mess. But Mikan endured, despite the hell that broke loose between them every night.

On the days that followed, she decided to sleep on the balcony outside. She sat on the old rocking chair, covered herself with a small blanket, and waited for his arrival. And when he arrived, she waited until he sobered. That way, she avoided some fights with him. When things died down, she always apologized to the neighbors he woke from the noise he made. She smiled at them, a small one, before getting inside and seeing him sprawled on the floor. She'd feel an imaginary squeeze in her heart and she'd carefully lift him up to the bed. Then, clean the mess he just made.

People were already wondering about the bickering they hear during some nights or about the bruises that would appear on Mikan's fair skin. But since Mikan would always try to ignore the topic, the rest decided to push the little questioning to the back of their minds.

But Evil was never contented with only this little destruction he made.

Everything worsened when Natsume noticed the power his looks had over the females he met in the bar. The way they flirted with him, the way they bared themselves and played with their tongues aroused every bit of him. An intense desire. The feeling was something ragged and wild. Something he could never have with Mikan. Plus the influence of alcohol and the stress from work, it was all that he needed to lose himself and take the kitten back home to his bed, not caring whether a certain brunette was waiting for him too –outside, where she endured the cold and the mosquitoes. Not once had she crossed his mind.

Or maybe he just wasn't too honest about himself.

Too many times would their neighbors see him with a girl in his arms. Those girls who may have come from the bar he just recently left. Every night was a different one from the previous. But those neighbors never said a word, pitying the poor Mikan whom they knew would always choose to stay beside him. And though they preferred it that way and kept their mouths shut, Mikan still knew. She perfectly knew what he does whether she is there or away or whether tonight would be blond night or not. But despite all this, she doesn't seem to mind. Sometimes, people wondered if she was either masochistic or stupid.

As she sat outside at night, she'd just close her eyes every time she hears noises from the room break through the silence. Gasps. Moans. Occasionally, a tear would unknowingly seep out of her eyes. But during those times, she'd just rock herself to sleep, pushing that little noise aside. They were having sex, not making love. It's different. Those two are different things, she'd convince herself. Natsume made love with her. Those girls are just his sex partners. She would tell herself this until her profound conviction drowned her to sleep.

-7WISHES-

"Mikan," a voice called out to her. There was no answer.

He called again, shaking her more fiercely this time.

"Mikan," he said. Until his words finally sink in.

She quickly got up, not intending to meet those mesmerizing red eyes –those same eyes that always draw her in like a magnet. How close they were, she wasn't too sure. But it sure is the first she'd see him this close ever since then. His warmth. His breath. A tear drop. Her arm extended right to him, wanting to touch that face. And he just stood there, intently looking at her. He never had the intention of stopping her or walking away. And it confused him as to why.

"Natsume," someone called from behind. And that momentary contact broke to oblivion. Mikan draw back her hands. He walked away.

"Let's go," he said to the girl. His arms slowly wrapped her waist, protecting her. Like how he once did to Mikan. He guided and led her to his blue convertible and made sure she was comfortably seated before making an arch in front of his car.

"Don't wait for me for dinner," he told Mikan before getting inside.

Not too soon, he started the engine and drove away. Mikan just watched them leave. A forced smile was on her face.

Don't wait for me for dinner. Those words replayed in her head like a broken tape. How many times had he said that? She lost count. But even if it was the millionth, she'd still wait. She'd still worry; worry if he had eaten or worry if he was tired. As he partied all night and went back home late and drunk, she would cook dinner enough for two. Just to make sure. She never cared even if the food she prepared would be wasted. All she cared was that he had something to eat in case he wanted. After all, it was him who said her cooking was the best in the world. Although now, she isn't too sure if he really meant it or not.

All the things I did were for you. I wish to see your heart's contentment, Natsume, she whispered to no one but herself while wiping the tear away. Maybe it was also that same reason, that same wish why she tolerated and endured such acts. And when the car disappeared on a turn, she went back inside the house to do her chores.

But whatever she does, it's too obvious it will never be her who'd give him that contentment. Back in the past, she was. But they are now in the present and things change through time. That fact alone is true. Yes. It may be painful. But it's also certain. She may give the best she got, but it will never be enough.

Or perhaps… if only they were true to themselves.

Chapter One ends | TO BE CONTINUED

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