The light spring air ruffled Mikan's dark honey hair carrying with it the sweet fragrance of young flowers. Mikan had unconsciously taken Natsume's advice-which he now may regret- and began to wear her hair half up, half down with a warm plaid print ribbon. What Mikan was entirely unaware of was that, in her second year of middle school at Alice Academy, boys were now following her more than ever. Within these past three months, things finally had begun to simmer down; it began when Narumi sensei took President Kounji's position as elementary president. Since then, corruption was at a minimum and missions were rare. Hotaru Imai was sparked, popping out inventions one after the other. Ruca-Pyon happened to stop by often to see what new "toy" she was constructing; though Hotaru may have appeared annoyed by this, she never said anything Mikan was glowing more than usual, most likely a result of her newfound relationship with her mother-she was tremendously relieved and happy to have Yuka's blessing to be at school. As for Natsume, he seemed, well, softer than ever, maybe even healthier. Though positive news, his fan-group found him all the more enabling, pestering him when the part of his manga was most exciting, or when he was monitoring Youichi. Mikan thought he was more relaxed and felt reassured. What she could never guess was that behind Natsume's calm exterior, there was a little raging monster he had to constrain whenever Tsubasa got a little too "near" or when any boy acted friendly towards Mikan, but didn't harbor the same innocence as she. It was annoying work, but neccessary. When he could be, he was at least 10 feet from Mikan, ready to "singe" a jacket, or even just glare-glaring surprisingly worked often. Natsume, a genius in his own right, knew he would have to wait for her to come to him. She was going to have to say her feelings for him out loud. It was going to be a long wait and he could be patient, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to tease her whenever he wanted...

"Mikan, I...I...like you!" The boy all but choked out.

"Wa?" Mikan's sparkling cinnamon eyes widened. In all her life, nothing had prepared her for this.

"...I'm sorry...I...I..." Mikan began,

"It's okay I understand!" The boy sped off in the blink of an eye.

What the boy was unaware of was that in that moment, a certain door within Mikan that had always been closed shut, slowly began to creak open.

That night, Mikan was wide awake, her mind flying through today's events. What she would have told him if he hadn't run off, Mikan did not know. What if someone else...Mikan stopped at the idea of "someone else". Suddenly, her heart started beating fast, she grabbed a pillow to squeeze and began to toss and turn. Her simple mind was trying to process something far richer and more complicated than what she could ever imagine.

"Oi polka"

Mikan sprung off her seat like a cricket, her heart racing. Natsume narrowed his eyes at her, her heart sped up even more.

"You look tired"

'Old!?' Mikan thought crazily, some how getting "old" from "tired", 'he thinks I look old!!?' Then she remembered, half angry, half depressed that he'd said far worse before. Mikan tried to formulate an insult, but nothing came, her mind was blank and something was stuck in her throat. She pretended to be absorbed in their assignment and blocked him out of view. 'What is wrong with me!?' Mikan thought frantically. Natsume frowned.

Over the next few days, Mikan knew she was going mad crazy. Since when did Natsume's movements become so amplified? Natsume was now the most vivid and real thing in the room, constantly sneaking into her peripheral vision. Mikan had always been faintly aware of his good looks, but now it was suddenly up close, in her face. She noticed everything. When he moved she flinched; when he spoke to her she was but a small squeaking mouse. At this rate, Mikan wasn't going to last. Mikan decided to go ask her dearest friend for advice and eased a little-surely Hotaru could help.

Meanwhile, Natsume was getting crabbier and crabbier. The fan-group edged away, conscious he could transform into a snapping turtle at any given moment. He looked at his hands. Was his face purple? Did he grow horns? Sure, he had many reasons to be frightening, but Mikan never seemed to be affraid...Natsume dropped his hand and sighed. One by one little doubts crept into Natsume's heart till it was filled with to the top with despair. Boy It was stinging. He thought of Mikan's lit up eyes and it throbbed even more. He imagined Mikan walking away from him and he felt scared. He was scared because he knew what that gesture could do-it could easily shatter him into pieces so small, they'd never be put back together. Miserable, Natsume slid down on the grass and lit a small fire with his finger just to watch it flicker.

"Hotaru! Hotaru, I need to talk to you about something." Mikan said, catching her breath.

Hotaru waited. Though there was no sign of it on Hotaru's her face, she had known something the matter.

Mikans eyes were opened so wide they had to be going dry.

"I...I..."

Hotaru stood.

"I...think..."

Hotaru blinked.

"I think I like Natsume!"

A giant breeze blew between the two standing girls, whirling their hair.

Hotaru turned to leave.

"No wait!" Mikan flew towards her and clutched her ankle.

"You have to help me! I don't know what to do! I--"

Dazed, Mikan slowly let go of Hotaru's leg.

"I have to tell him." Mikan muttered, realizing.

Mikan didn't notice that Hotaru left. She also didn't notice that nearby, someone with a thudding heart just went from being the grimmest of grim to the happiest boy in the entire world.

Each night Mikan fell asleep resolved she would tell him, but every morning she saw him and resolved it was impossible. It didn't help her concentration that he seemed to be hovering around more than ever. His mood lately could almost be described as flamboyant. His eyes were more flashy and his smirk was practically plastered on to his face. Mikan moped-this was in no way good for her confidence.

She was walking towards the dorm when she stopped dead in her tracks. Natsume was surrounded by his fan-girls and...happy? Mikan narrowed her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. She felt a cold shock at the core of her spine. How could he be smiling? What could they have done for him to be so cheerful? Mikan tore herself from the scene and marched to her room. Inside, Mikan threw herself onto her bed, stuffing her head under the pillows. For a while, she laid there. She remembered all the moments Natsume called her a "baka" and "ugly", all his looks of disapproval. Such little things normally wouldn't have such an effect, but now she was sinking with the weight of it. Mikan slowly slid off the bead, her head the last to come off. Mikan Sakura had successfully manipulated herself into believing there was absolutely no reason for Natsume to like her. Her self esteem at an all time low, and her head and heart hurting, she ambled to the dining hall. Mikan hadn't noticed she'd gotten food and was now sitting in front of it- she'd gone through the motions but her mind was elsewhere. What did catch her attention was Natsume. Mikan's sick little heart got sicker. Natsume was by a girl two years older than he and she was dazzling. She was pestering him relentlessly, but he still had that agonizingly happy aura. Mikan turned to her food and felt herself coming udone. This was not like her to be this way. When had she ever felt this sad and hopeless?

"Oi baka." Natsume didn't know he'd just verbally punched her in the face.

"Hey, polka dots" He said a little softer. Mikan clenched her fork.

"Mikan,"

But Mikan didn't hear that; she jumped off her seat and ran to the door. Outside, she hunkered down next to a wall and hugged her knees, crying. She'd never felt such inner turmoil. 'What's wrong with me' she thought, wiping off tears. Her own actions surprised herself. Mikan spotted two shoes through her tear-blurred eyes. The owner of the two shoes began to bend down and to her horrification, she discovered it was Natsume. Mikan desperately darted her eyes everywhere but at him, as if it would help her come up with some kind of excuse or distraction. How could she explain to him what she couldn't explain herself?

She was looking at some flowers when she froze. Natsume's warm hands were holding her face- a gesture only a second ago, Mikan would have never thought possible. He eyed the tear rolling down her left cheek and brushed it away. The action made Mikan's insides go hot. Natsume could be this gentle? She felt as though giant waves were lapping in her stomach. He was so close. Natsume wiped off the tears on her right and then finally caught her eyes with his. Mikan gasped. Never had his scarlet eyes been so near, so clear, so sparkling. She was swallowed whole.

"Natsume," she whispered, unknowing where her voice was coming from, "I love you" she gave up.

And with great pleasure she watched his eyes turn from shock to smoldering joy. He answered her back.

Mikan hugged him. All these feelings were new to her. The patter of his heart, his radiating warmth, his hands, his shoulders...she could hardly bear it, she loved it all.

Mikan was squeezing him so tight his nerves were trembling. She was so warm and soft and real. Natsume knew he'd never been this happy or relieved ever before. Unable to contain his burning wonderment and finally daring to move, Natsume touched his forehead to Mikan's. He didn't know what marveled him more: the tickling breath he felt at his mouth, the long, golden-brown eyelashes, or the fact that he now had absolute permission to do this. He moved closer and ever-so-lightly touched his lips to hers. Mikan knew it was coming but she gasped anyway. The kiss was slow and long and full of thrilling hints of the future. Mikan felt no innocence slip away, because she loved him. They'd been through so much together, and he'd always-a tear escaped from Mikan's eye-always been there. Natsume kissed off her tear and pulled away. He was losing his sense. His "adolescence" was beginning to completely take over...the black cat smirked, relishing all the things he could do to her (he was his mother's son after all): licking, feeling, biting...Natsume stopped. He smiled at the girl now resting on his lap. He could wait. Just knowing that from now on Mikan would be more compliasant than ever was enough-he could be patient. Well, relatively patient...

And because cyring made her tired, and because Natsume was stroking her face, and because she just felt so damn cozy and safe she drifted to sleep.

And Natsume, who was bursting with a gratitude, adoration, and contentment he could hardly contain, found himself dozing off as well.

And later, the entire school sighed at once and thought one thing: finally.