My Question:

In 9 out of 10 canon (kinda) fanfiction I read, it is almost guaranteed that an adjective or synonym for Natsume is pyromaniac. The word had become so popularised that many people with fire magic, like Natsume are referred to as a pyromaniac. But they are not. Pyromania is a clinical condition where a person uncontrollably sets things on fire. It occurs in male children predominately, and can be cured at an early age through counselling and behaviour modification. It's extremely rare (less than 1% in psychiatric hospitals or something, according to Wikipedia) and is actually a mental illness.

So, what if Natsume IS a pyromaniac? What if the metaphor is true? Well, this is my interpretation...

Note: I actually know nothing about psychology, or pyromania except for the cursory glance at Wikipedia. But it's nice to pretend. ^^

Disclaimer: If I owned Gakuen Alice, Ruka and Hotaru would actually fall in love, the manga would be less confusing, and there would be at least 3 seasons of the anime already. And Natsume would've kissed Mikan in the anime. And they would be 16. So obviously, I don't own Gakuen Alice. The song is Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World.

Oh... and please pay attention to the timeline, to avoid confusion of course. It's going to go through 11 years in 14,000 words, which is quite fast, apparently.

EDIT: In the section '4 years ago from present day' Ruka wasn't there. So he didn't hear Natsume and Mikan's verbal combat, and neither of them told him about it. Why? Well, *randomly searches for a plot device* Ruka is at the cowshed (because every boarding school needs a cowshed) milking cows, in a dress, apron and a kapp. Yep, he's secretly an Amish transvestite. But then again, this is a plot device so please ignore everything I've just said. ^^


What would you think of me now?

So lucky so strong so proud,

I've never said thankyou for that,

Now I'll never have a chance.

May Angels lead you in…

The smoke was billowing thickly into the small attic, creeping under the almost red hot door. In the far corner of her small wooden room the terrified girl curled into a tight ball, watching the iron escape with quiet horror. She pushed back her sweaty hair; the heat was almost unbearable. Her breath came in short gasps, trying to inhale clean oxygen that the poisonous air lacks. Her blurred vision rested for a moment upon the dusty, wedged shut and impossibly small, square of glass, too fatigued to move. She was so, so tired.

I'm going to die, she realised, too tired to contemplate death. She was too tired to even breathe, let along trying to lift open the small window, which was stuck firmly closed with years of layered dust and grime.

She coughed violently, and as if by magic, her wall exploded in a cloud of dust and sound. Cool air embraced her body, and she saw the blurry outline of his face pass by just before she fell off the edge of consciousness.

I knew you would come...

…………………………………………………

11 years from present day

Numbly standing on the crumbly asphalt, the little boy's soles of his tender feet burned on the empty tar road. Black smoke stretched into sky, the dark clouds swallowing them up. It was so sudden, but now that he fought down his own mental monster, he shook with terror. Sirens wailed, deaf to his ears, towering policemen and nurses blurred past. The boy could catch strains of their voices, some horrified, some shocked, some even disappointed. And although he was only five years old, Natsume understood.

"…believe it? A five-year old, how are they gonna put that kid in jail?'

"…poor thing, it must be so shocking…"

"…killed his own family! My god, who could've thought…"

"…a five year old kid, his hands already stained with the murder…"

His throat caught as the last sentence passing through his numb mind.

"…murdered his own family…"

The fire was intense; the rushed heroes could only barely contain it. His neighbours were all out on the street, huddled into little whispering groups, gathering into their families for warmth. Natsume turned away, envious. Tears pricked in his eyes as he watched his home burn down, before looking up into the Heavens, silently apologising.

Mommy, Daddy, Aoi…

I'm sorry…

And so the little boy broke down, and as his frail body wracked with sobs, he lost his final footing on reality, and fell.

…………………………………………………

Present Day, 10 minutes earlier

It's happening again.

He watched in horror as the tall dormitory swayed under the brunt of the fire. His fire. Natsume, frantic with terror, scanned the myriad of shrieking girls for a sign of her face. Blindly he grabbed a short girl running past him, only clad in a thin nightdress.

"Do you know where Mikan is? She lives in that top attic, where is she?"

The girl only shook her pink hair in stunned terror, and ran off the instant he released her. His eyes locked onto the miniscule window of the thirteenth floor, fiercely praying it to open.

Mikan, open the damn window, baka!

He screwed up his eyes, willing his pounding headache to go away and so he could think, to save her. Because he knew he cannot murder the person that he loved again. Because he knew if he didn't succeed in rescuing her, he wouldn't be able to climb back out the second time, out of that dark pit called insanity.

……………………………………………………

10 years from present day

Persona regarded the small boy with disdain. His porcelain skin looked so fragile, his dull red eyes staring up at the blank hospital ceiling.

"This is him?"

The plump lady wrung her hands, nodding.

"Yes, he was orphaned after a terrible fire. It killed all his family except for him."

Persona nodded tiredly at the well-known story.

"Mrs. Blissey, I am a psychiatrist. I cannot accept him into my care until I know the full story."

She looked nervous, regarding the dull eyed child with almost fright.

Persona smiled, guessing the truth easily.

"I would not know the full details, but I am guessing that he purposely caused death of his family?"

The caretaker nodded in defeat.

"He… he purposely set fire to the gas stove in the kitchen. There was no other way the fire could've occurred," she whispered, "He was pronounced clinically insane after he… caused the death of his immediate family, and was then diagnosed with pyromania."

Persona's thin black lips twisted into a sardonic smile.

"That's one screwed up kid. I'll come and collect him next week."

Mrs. Blissey started, her white knuckles shaking a little under the dark man's pervading stare.

"Y-your going to take him away?"

Persona snapped a little, impatient at the old lady.

"Yes, I cannot fully try to cure him without him being within my constant supervision. He will be residing at Alice Academy, as a special student."

She nodded nervously, wanting to get away from the strange psychiatrist's stifling aura.

"O-of course, Mr. Persona. I will make sure he's packed all his belongings, and," she hesitated, "thank you for your generous charity."

Persona looked at her coldly, before stiffly returning the gratitude.

"It is of no problem to me, Mrs. Blissey. Alice Academy's new mental health student program is especially funded by the government to try to help the severely mentally crippled children. After all," Persona added with a cold smile, "children are our future."

.................................................................................................................

9 years from present day

The little boy was staring at the carefully controlled fire that was in the middle of the room. He crouched carefully near the flames, wistfully gazing at them.

Persona watched his experimental subject with interest, while making mental notes.

It's Natsume's one year anniversary since I took him in, and he is still in deep hallucination, recovering temporarily only when there is an open fire in his presence. His pyromaniac nature should be the key to the return of his sanity, although in itself is considerably more dangerous than insanity.

He sighed, and went over to turn off the fire before the boy gets burnt.

To suffer from such a rare mental illness, he really is valuable research material.

He entered the password, and quickly cut off the gas. Natsume stared glassily at where the fire was. Suddenly he sprang up, started screaming in terror and running in the opposite direction.

Persona caught the writhing boy before he could ram into the pristine bleached walls, and counted to three before he suddenly went limp, shivering in the bitter aftertaste of his personal never-ending nightmare

The psychiatrist almost wished he could see into his mind, and find out what the hell is it that made the little boy start screaming with such a heartbreaking expression.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Present day, 9 minutes earlier

Ruka Nogi watching the Third Dorm burn down in horror, while kneeling beside his coughing girlfriend, waiting for help. He shifted her onto his lap, and gently patted her back as her normally stoic face contorted in pain.

"Hotaru…"

The inventor viciously swallowed back the bile that rose up to her throat.

"Damn it Ruka, that baka's still in there, I have to g-"

She was reduced to another violent coughing fit.

Ruka balled up his fist in frustration, unable to help.

"I am not letting you go back into that building, Hotaru. I'll go."

She glared blearily at him.

"No, you'll get killed for nothing, idiot."

"What do you propose then?"

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her keys.

"My flying goose is in my room, on the first floor. If Hyuuga can get it, he can go and rescue Mikan and his damn conscience."

Ruka smiled quietly at Imai's fierce expression, knowing that if she wasn't reduced to a coughing fit every two minutes, she would be leading the rescue mission.

He started up, carefully laying Hotaru's still shuddering body on the cool grass, away from the heat of the inferno.

"I'll be right back."

Hotaru smiled weakly. And although she had never believed in God, she prayed.

Kami-sama, please lend Hyuuga the strength to save Mikan, and to save himself.

Amen.

………………………………………………………………………………………

8 years from present day

Natsume would have cried, but he knew no one will hear him. No one ever did, because no one existed in his nightmares. No one but him and it.

And he knew that it was coming back, stalking him like it did for the last 2 years of his life. He could faintly hear its footsteps, its horrible throaty voices, and its rustling sound as it stomped around his tormented mind.

It's coming closer…

Years of running away had taught Natsume the exact moment he should pick up his tired body and run. Luckily it is slow, weighted down by his guilt.

But today he was too tired, it had not given him a wink of sleep, haunting him every chance he nodded off.

It came closer, and the ground shook a little with its heavy, putrid weight.

Natsume, dear…, it crooned, its voice a horrible symphony of his family. Aoi's cheery voice, his mother's caring voice, his father's kind voice. Voices that sparked a deep terror in his very being.

Natsume, where are you?

He shut his eyes, unable to force his body to get up and run, even though his instincts screamed at him to do exactly that.

A white fleshy arm became visible through the darkness, and then two gleaming ribs and a part of a foot: his father's probably. The creature came fully into view, and bile rose up at his throat. The creature was a chimera, a vast mass of body parts, haphazardly connected and joined as one. The sickening placement of the human organs meant it can only move slowly, balancing precariously on one small, pale hand- Aoi's, a dainty foot- Mother's, and a thick thigh bone. The creature gurgled, his mother's eyes wildly rolled back as his father's head, which has been merged with what looked like an intestine, smiled.

We finally found you, Natsume!

Aoi's face, whose eyes' were just yawning hollows, contorted in a scowl.

Onii-chan, how could you murder your own sister? You deserve to die, it scolded, and you should have been the one that died!' the face twisted into an ugly scream, crying blood, 'How dare you steal my life from me!'

He screamed, backing away, yet it neared. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to eat him, to kill him. And therefore releasing him from his guilt, his sin.

"Natsume!"

The creature stopped, frozen by the glowing voice.

"You can stop running away because I'm going to chase it away, and I won't let it hurt you."

It was the first time he had heard another voice. It was strong, determined, familiar and most of all, warm.

The boy blinked hard, and the monster was gone. His darkness, the mental nightmare, was fading. He can see it now, a flickering light that was so like the warm flames he occasionally saw, but brighter. And for the first time in 2 years, he felt safe.

Ruka bit his lip worriedly, concern written all over his face for his childhood friend, in which he hadn't seen for two years, after their house burnt to the ground. He had chased him here, and the scary man had finally let him see Natsume, who was screaming at what seemed to be absolutely nothing. But he hoped he figured out what were the right words that could penetrate his nightmare, to rescue him from the imaginary monsters. The blond boy anxiously stared as his friend's dull, lifeless eyes slowly brightened and focused.

Persona watched with mild amusement as the boy finally crawled out of his insanity and returned to reality. He sighed. And so begins the suicidal phase, he predicted.

..............................................................................

Present day- 8 min earlier

Anxiously scanning the chaotic scene, Ruka despaired. How could he find one face among the hundreds that milled and panicked here? The crowd was departing the flames in a steady stream, both teachers and students long given up order to escape. After all, Alice Academy is surrounded by fuel- the dense forests that the school had so prided itself in. Ruka perched on a high branch, scanning desperately for the one person that will be going towards the fire, not against it. After all, Natsume, no matter how he denied it, always loved fire. Swinging down from the sturdy birch branch, he pushed his way through the dense crowds, grabbing his friend's icy arm. Natsume violently started, and was about to shake the firm hand away when he saw who it was connected to.

"Ruka?"

The blond silently pressed the cold metal key into his friend's equally cold hands.

"Hotaru's flyer is in her room, on the first floor. Number 6. Go rescue her, Natsume."

Ruka smiled at the desperate man's expression, as if he had given him the most wonderful thing in the world. He rushed off, his wordless gratitude left in his wake. Smiling, Ruka started making his way back to Hotaru. Silent and thoughtful, Natsume had never been the one for expressions of emotion, or just words in general. But luckily, Ruka had never needed them either.

He looked up at the smoky sky, sending his prayer with the black, poisonous carbon dioxide as if drifted up into the heavens.

"You're welcome," he whispered belatedly.

……………………………………………….

7 years from present day

"Oh my God…, what the hell were you thinking?"

The blond boy quickly cut the rough noose open, his best friend collapsing onto the blood red carpet. Vulnerable pink marks stretched across his neck, his mouth gasped in pain as his tender throat greedily sucked in oxygen.

Ruka wobbled, and then sat down hard on the floor, next to his semi-unconscious friend. Red eyes accusingly glared at him, as Natsume's raspy voice asked angrily, "Why the hell did you cut me off?"

Hot tears slid down the blond boy's angelic face.

"Dummy, I don't want you to die!"

Natsume looked away, his anger melted away by his guilt, at making his best friend cry.

"But," he objected, his voice still tender, "I want to."

Ruka shook his head balling up his fists.

"NO! You can't die! If you die…I…I will never forgive you! I won't even come to your funeral!"

The bitter 9 year old carefully touched his swollen throat, wincing.

"Ruka, I won't even have a funeral. No one wants me in this world. Everyone who knows what I did thinks I'm a monster. Hell, even I think I'm a monster. And monsters always get killed right?"

His best friend violently shook his head, and denied vehemently, "You're not a monster! And… and you need go see Persona right now, to go to the hospital!"

Springing up with sudden decisiveness, Ruka extended his hand down to the coughing boy. Natsume eyed his hand with disinterest, and gingerly stood up and sat down on his spacious bed.

"I'm not going anywhere. And I don't need to go to the hospital. Go away."

Ruka stubbornly rooted to the carpet, not budging an inch.

"I'm not going anywhere, because as soon as I leave you'll kill yourself. And I won't let you do that."

Folding away the down filled silk covers, Natsume struggled into bed, turning his back on his friend.

"Fine, do what ever you want."

"Fine. I will," Ruka shot back, angry.

A moment of tense silence passed, before he gave up, and sat down on the edge of the bed that was way too big for a nine year old boy.

"Natsume?"

There was no response.

Ruka sighed, and then kicking off his shoes, he snuggled down next to his friend.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

A fleeting moment passed, before an equally quiet voice replied, "Me too."

Ruka smiled briefly, before asking hesitantly, "Will you go to the hospital tomorrow?"

A long pause.

"…ok."

Silent tears slid down the blonde's face, wetting the Egyptian cotton bedspread. Ruka wiped them away, scolding himself. Boys aren't supposed to cry. But his forlorn voice that was so desolate of hope and filled with regret had shaken the little blond boy to the core. Ruka still tasted salt in his mouth.

Boys shouldn't cry.

…………………………………………………….

Present day- 7 min earlier

The heat was intense, yet somehow bearable.

The door was swinging open, the heavy wood still uncharred.

Natsume flew past, and into the blackened corridor.

The fiery staircase that lead up to the second floor was already broken beyond repair, burning merrily as the desperate boy raced past it, down the flaming corridor.

Deftly dodging falling debris, Natsume glanced at the blackened doors on either side of the long corridor. One to three was burnt beyond repair, and brass number '4' can barely be made out under a layer of soot. Five was mainly intact, yet… Natsume grinded to a halt before the yawning burning expanse that door number six was supposed to hide. The battered door was in pieces on the floor, and fire had already escaped inside. Carefully, he stepped into the room.

The heat was intense. Black smoke filled his lungs, sending the boy into a vicious coughing fit. Kneeling on the strangely cool floor, Natsume's eyes cleared.

Hot air rises, he remembered thoughtfully. Crawling along the carpet, he winced as a piece of melting plastic struck his palm. The burn seared through his skin, yet he bit his lip and went on. Natsume had been in Imai Hotaru's room quite a few times, considering they barely even talk.

Connected by both Mikan and Ruka, the two had somehow come to a stiff peace treaty. He still distinctly remembered this morning, when Ruka had drove them both to Imai's dorm, intent on picking his girlfriend up for once in his life. Gakuen Alice is in many ways bigger than most universities, and generally students catch buses to classes. The gentle boyfriend was defied again as Imai emerged gracefully through her window, sailing past the car on her flying contraption. Natsume had laughed at his best friend's annoyance.

The window.

As the invention cannot be flown indoors, Imai must've left it near her window. Natsume stilled, concentrating, his whole body hypersensitive to the gentle breath of wind that must come through the window. After all, he distinctly remembered spotting the injured Imai with her bloodied fists, a paramedic gingerly picking out glass fibers.

The window must've been smashed open.

A moment passed, a sigh of air brushed his cheek.

One indication of direction was all he needed. Bending his back, Natsume rushed forward, sighting the smooth cream curve of the swan neck, the blackened aluminium, and the once white body.

Lying haphazardly next to the goose, he spotted Hotaru's new prototype, the Baka Cannon. Instinct told him to tuck the dangerous weapon into his pocket before setting his eyes on the object of his mission. Reaching for the handlebars, he winced as the red hot metal left a glaring scar onto his palm.

The seat was half melted; a ceiling beam had fallen onto it. The fire danced around in his crimson eyes, highlighting his fierce determination. I won't let her die. With a quick jerk, Natsume plunged his blistered hands into the fire, shifting it off the flying contraption. He cursed as the fire burnt his skin, numb with pain. Yet he had to save her. Throwing his jacket onto the seat, he quickly sat down and inserted the key.

The engine roared to life, and with his damaged hands, Natsume steered Mikan's lifeline through the window, into the cool night air.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

6 years from present day

"Oh my God…, what the hell were you thinking?"

The questioned boy put his feet up on the polished desk, and eyed the cowering substitute teacher in the corner. Their cross dressing excuse of a teacher, Narumi, was off somewhere. Again.

"You know," he said sarcastically, "the last time you said that I was committing suicide."

Ruka fretted.

"But, the Northern Woods are so dangerous, how could you send, of all the people in our class, her, into that… place??"

Natsume pretended to read manga while Mochu drew something R-rated onto the blackboard.

"Because she's naïve, stupid and really really annoying."

Ruka looked through the window, at the forbidding forests, and shuddered.

"Just because you have a death wish doesn't mean you can condemn other people too."

Natsume glared.

"Fine then. If you're so worried, you go and look for her. Besides, she's with Iinchou. And she deserves it, for ruining our escape."

"We wouldn't have been able to get away anyway, Narumi was after us."

Natsume studiously ignored the glaring fact, and grunted.

"Whatever. Just wait for her."

Ruka glared back.

"Fine then. I will."

………………………………………………………………………………………

5 years from present day (see manga chap 48^^)

Natsume stared after her, the glowing figure that, like always, sacrificed herself for someone else's benefit. This time it was Youichi's so he could play with Mr. Bear. A smile played on his lips. Amazing how one little no star can wriggle her way into everyone's hearts. He shifted his position high in the Christmas tree, and took another bite of cake. Now she was starting a ridiculous game of picking up rubbish. How absurd. The lone boy's eyes trailed after the girl, envious of her spirit and vitality. Hopping down, he strode to the bin and threw in his paper plate.

"Thankyou Natsume-kun!"

Natsume jumped at her cheerful voice.

"What the hell- why do you just randomly thank people?"

Her smile was dazzling.

"Because you helped me by not throwing rubbish on the floor!"

He shrugged at turned around to face her, having long given up deciphering her weirdly routed thought trails.

"That's what we're supposed to do, idiot. You should be yelling at the people tossing, not starting some ridiculous game."

Her pretty lips straightened into a firm line, annoyed.

"Natsume, why can't you just ever accept what life throws at you and move on, instead of cross examining every little thing?"

"Because I want to, because sometimes what life throws at you is downright confusing, because I want to see what I had done wrong so I won't make the same mistake next time."

She glared at him and stomped on his foot.

He winced.

"I apologise, for overestimating your maturity, Polka Dots."

"And I apologise, jerk, for thinking that you actually can be nice."

They both turned their heels around stomping off in the opposite direction. Two meters away, Kitsuneme frowned at the pair while stuffing his face with another pastry.

"Neh, Koko, why is it that whenever Mikan-chan and Natsume-kun meet they argue and storm off in the opposite directions?"

His best friend smiled mysteriously, the normally vacant look on his face was filled with humour.

"My dear friend, you've only heard half their conversation."

Kitsuneme grabbed another chocolate croissant, with fluffy white whipped cream piled on top.

"I'm pretty damn sure I've heard their whole conver- oh," he realised, then stared wistfully at the top of the sky high tree that dominated the centre of the dance floor, "…how can you tell what they were thinking?"

Koko grinned. "Easy. It's written all over their faces."

…………………………………………………………………

4 years from present day

Mikan looked stunned as the boy stared into her eyes. She touched her lips, where the boy had kissed her so gently.

Ruka stared at the pavement at his feet, blushing furiously.

"I-I'm so sorry! I- um," he swallowed thickly, trying to get the words across his stubborn mouth, "I'm sorry I…"

He took a deep breath and stared into her chocolate eyes, still a little bit dazed at the surprise kiss, before blurting his raw feelings out.

"SakuraMikanIreallylikeyouwillyougooutwithme?"

She blinked, before comprehension dawned upon her.

"You want me to go out with you?"

She sounded incredulous. Ruka immediately wished he could've traded anything to take those words back. Heck, even the kiss back, even though it was the best, albeit first, kiss he ever had.

Damn, she's going to reject me…

Ruka nodded hesitantly, then ploughed on, "Look, um, you don't have to decide right now, I don't mind if it's like a week later or- well I-" he ducked his head shyly, "Um, see you tomorrow then!"

Ruka took off at the speed of light, hoping he didn't make himself out to be too much of an idiot.

3 days later-

"Why do you do that??"

Koko winced, as the loud scream pierced his ears. Looking around, he spotted the source.

Natsume sat with his feet propped up on the table as always, regarding the angry female species that was standing in front of him with a lazy glance.

"Do what?"

Mikan stamped her foot in annoyance.

"You know exactly what I mean! Why won't you even lift a finger to help others at zero expense of yourself, when you know that you can?"

He flipped a page of Fullmetal Alchemist, volume 6.

"Because they're not my problem. If they fail their midterms, that's their fault, isn't it?"

"WHY ARE YOU SO STUBBORN???? You know perfectly well if we fail, we'll be expelled!"

Natsume lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the girl, admiring how her pink cheeks flushed when she was angry.

"So? Maybe that says something about them."

Mikan snatched his manga and flung it to the other side of the room. The classroom was stunned to silence- no one stood up to Natsume like that. The boy quietly stood up, his eyes blazing. Mikan ignored him, and kept on ranting.

"Excuse us if we're not child prodigies like you! Excuse us if we don't have the leisure of doing nothing and being a straight A student! Excuse us for even trying to ask for a miniscule amount of your time and energy because the high and mighty Hyuuga Natsume cannot possibly waste his precious words and excess brain cells on his so called friends!!"

"You don't understand anything Sakura, so don't you dare judge me!"

"Judge you? You stupid egoistical hypocrite! Don't you dare ask anything from us if you won't even spare a second to help out your friends! Equivalent Exchange*, isn't that what's the damn world about? Isn't that what your stupid manga about?"

Natsume's voice was deathly quiet.

"You're right, Sakura, everything you take has a consequence. But obviously Equivalent Exchange doesn't exist. Because you know why? If it did, I'd already be long dead."

Mikan glared right back, unintimidated.

"Just because you have a death wish doesn't mean you can condemn the others around you to suffer when you can obviously help them out! But of course, your head is too crowded with stupid selfish thoughts about yourself, how you've done something, whether it's right or not! For once in your life Hyuuga, think of how you can use your talents to help someone else out, instead of using them to fulfil your own selfish wish!"

Natsume's glare was smouldering.

"Yes, Sakura, the holy Mother Teresa reincarnate, how could a saint like you understand what I went through? How can you even know what selfishness looks like, let alone accuse someone of its possession, when you yourself obviously have none? So excuse us, the rest of the normal world, for being selfish while you live in your pretty perfect world! Get your mind out of the clouds, Sakura, because reality is a hell a lot uglier than anything you've seen!"

Natsume panted a little from holding his breath, holding steady his piercing gaze.

Mikan stared back, almost pityingly at him.

"I'm sorry, Natsume," her quiet voice faulted, an imperfection, "I'm sorry for believing you had a shred of niceness. But most of all, I'm sorry for myself, for ever trying to be your friend."

And she ran out of the classroom, slamming the door shut.

...

That night Persona watched in cold analysis at rush of the fire engines the panicked voices of the men as they tried to contain the forest fire. His subject's fatal flaw, the blemish of his genius mind that had brought about his emotional turmoil and endless nightmares, had for the first time since that day he was orphaned, reared its ugly head.

Ruka groggily opened his wide wooden doors, mildly annoyed at the knocking in the middle of the night.

"Hello?"

He froze, recognising her voice anywhere.

"Mikan?"

She sounded awful, her throat thick with tears.

She collapsed into his welcoming arms, hiccupping slightly. He stroked her hair, gently working out the tangles. And she curled up in his arms, overcome with a feeling of contentedness.

"I'm pretty stupid to be so upset over just Hyuuga's words aren't I, Ruka?"

So they're back to last name basis again, he thought with a sigh.

Mikan sat up straighter, and looked up through the window, where the full moon was hanging brightly. And then she turned around, her determined eyes catching his.

"Yes."

Puzzled, he queried, "Yes to what?"

Her eyes were already on the moon again, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

And Ruka hugged her tightly, not too sure what she really meant.

…………………………………………………………………….

3 years ago from present day

He sat on the cold roof tiles, waiting for his best friend to come. It was their tradition, on Thursday nights. The moon hung brightly in the cloudless sky, reflecting the worried boy's thoughts.

A shuffling sound; and a silent scuffle marked the late friend's quiet arrival.

Ruka shifted his eyes from the glowing disk in the sky to his friend's subtly illuminated face. The moon and the darkness had set Natsume's handsome features in a harsh contrast, reflecting his struggling problems.

"I heard Koko asked Sumire out."

Natsume smiled, although it didn't quiet reach his eyes.

"If I was a girl, I'm sure I'd be squealing over this."

Ruka smiled too. At least Natsume still had his sarcasm.

"But you should be. She won't bother you any more."

The quiet boy turned his eyes skyward, not looking at the moon, but the small specks of light that surrounded it.

"…I'm sorry. For last night."

Ruka stiffened, his delicate features setting in a scowl.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do anything. Maybe you should thank yourself, because you're really the one that made the final decision, no matter what I did. After all, it is your life."

He sighed.

"I… I just wanted to go. To get it over and done with. We're born to die, aren't we?"

Ruka chuckled.

"Ever the pessimist, aren't you Natsume?"

He smiled.

"Don't forget suicidal, depressed, and clinically insane."

"You're not clinically insane anymore. You're just mentally unstable."

"Hai."

"…It's not your fault, Natsume."

He nodded slowly.

A comfortable silence stretched.

"…How's Sakura?"

Ruka blushed.

"She's well. She did have to retake that maths test though."

He looked vaguely annoyed.

"You know, if you weren't such a crap teacher, you could've tutored her."

"Yeah. The one thing she needs most, a good tutor. The one thing I can't be."

Natsume smiled. Ruka was infamous for his ability, or lack thereof, to explain absolutely anything.

"You could tutor her."

The dark haired boy started.

"Anything I teach her will go right through her miniscule brain and out the other ear."

Ruka laughed.

"I'm sure her brain has some capacity for absorbing."

Natsume shook his head.

"No, I don't think I can."

Ruka studied him.

"You don't think you can because she's a hopeless case, or because you can't face her?"

A ghost of a smile graced his face.

"Quite possibly both."

The blond was frustrated.

"Do you hate her that much? You haven't ever said a proper sentence to her since we were 11! And she's my girlfriend!"

"Yeah, I really hate her that much. She's an idiotic brainless girl whose mouth and nose are too big, who is unbearably annoying."

Ruka opened his mouth, and closed it again.

"…I really, really hate her," he whispered again, more to himself than to his friend. Because although he was in no way superstitious, maybe if he repeated it enough it will really come true.

……………………………………………………………………

2 years from present day

Mikan skipped to his door and banged it open.

"Ruka! Thank y-"

The spacious room was dark and empty.

Shutting the door, mildly embarrassed, she stomped off back down the stairs.

Where is he?

She fingered the rich yet intricately fine woven snow white scarf around her neck. She had been gazing at it when she was window shopping with Hotaru and Ruka, bemoaning her almost depressing lack of money. She had loved the scarf. Mikan smiled brightly at her boyfriend's kindness, of how he planned her surprise birthday party and her present. Yet he had an exam right after… Mikan paused in front of another high wooden three star door. Why did his 3 hour exam have to be right at 6 o'clock? She smiled, pleased at Ruka's dedication to veterinary, and his gentle patience with all animals. She and Ruka had won the 'Most Likely to be Married Couple' in her year 6 formal last year.

But now he was no where to be found. Mikan sighed, resigning to thanking him tomorrow, before she glanced absentmindedly at the brass name plate of the fancy room. Hyuuga Natsume.

She grinned. Ruka's best friend will definitely know where he is! Yet her hand froze as she laid it on the polished door handle.

He hates me though.

She shook her head, ridding the pessimistic thought. After all, he didn't really hate her, he just… ignores her. Mikan stopped trying to converse with the mysterious and cold person after a month of going out with Ruka. She had originally thought it was because of the big fight they had back when they were 11, but they were now 14 and one really can't hold a grudge for that long.

Besides, all I'll be asking is where Ruka is.

Satisfied with her mini pep talk she slowly pushed down the handle and opened the door. It was dark, and she was just about to leave, thinking that there was no one there, when she caught a wiry frame silhouetted against the moonlight pouring in from the open window. A figure that was leaning against the windowsill, unconscious with blood thickly dripping from his hands, into a strategically positioned salad bowl on the floor. Mikan's mind went into automatic.

…………………………………………………..

The haunting darkness lightened, to his surprise, the red tinted night that was the numbing pain faded. A bright piercing light broke his night, and with wonder he saw its beauty. It had no place in this fathomless world of the dead. He was dead, right?

"Goddamn it Hyuuga! Wake up! Don't die! Please don't die!"

He frowned, feeling salty tears dripping onto his naked torso. Why the hell would someone cry over his dead body? And then, resignedly he realised he was still alive. Damn it.

The world came into focus, the beautiful light he saw transformed into his bedside lamp, held over his eyes, blinding him.

"God, stop it!"

With more annoyance, he realised his angry words didn't come out with quite the volume for the impact due to his hoarse throat.
"Argh!!!!!"

He winced at the terrified scream, followed by a tinkling sound of broken glass.

Natsume screwed his eyes shut, hoping to at least go to sleep, again, and never wake up.

A sharp prod bruised his ribs, forcing his eyes open and actual effort of sitting up.

He blinked, before a wave of vertigo crashed onto him and he wobbled. Gentle arms caught him, while his eyes fluttered shut again.

Another poke, this time at his stomach jolted him back awake.

"I know you're alive! So don't pretend that you aren't. It won't work."

The planes of her face came into focus, set in a scowl. Yet somehow, the shock of waking up next to his best friend's girlfriend somehow didn't surprise him that much.

He glared back weakly.

"Hello," he managed.

She stood up, and with absolutely no grace whatsoever, plonked herself into an armchair, before she opened her mouth.

"Why did you try to commit suicide?"

He flinched, his mind quickly racing for an excuse, before deciding denial is the best.

"What the hell? What on earth made you think I was committing suicide?"

Natsume hoped that Mikan was as good as detecting a lie as she was good at maths.

The brunette jolted back up again, and marched up to him with a salad bowl.

"It's nice to know you still care about your carpet," Mikan enunciated with distaste, "while you're bleeding to death. What kind of psycho are you??"

Natsume stared mutely down at his own dark pool of blood before looking up and meeting her eye.

"One that will kill you if you tell anyone else."

Mikan scoffed.

"Oh, should I actually be scared? Should I be worried that you would even be alive to carry out the damn threat?"

He slumped down on his bed, the covers sticky with blood that stained his bare skin.

"What were you even doing in my room?" he growled, clutching his throbbing temples with limp hands.

Mikan bristled indignantly.

"Why am I here? My damn God, Hyuuga, how dare you even have the gall to ask that?" she spluttered furiously, "I came here thinking to ask you where Ruka is, find you lying on your windowsill half dead, sacrificed my own birthday present to stop your damn bleeding, dragged your fat arse onto your stupid bed and saved your obviously ungrateful idiotic life, and you still ask me why I'm here???"

Natsume winced, for the first time noticing the fine Egyptian cotton that was tightly wrapped around both his wrists, so tightly bound that it almost cut off his circulation. Although that was the whole point of it.

"Ruka is in the c-"

Mikan pointedly ignored his sentence, ploughing onwards, "How could you? How could you just freaking die on yourself? Do you know how many people would give their own damn child to be here, with your special star carpet and feather mattress? Do you know how many people struggle to live, how many people suffer so much pain just for the sake of life, how many people starve to death?? And here you are, freaking throwing your high and mighty life away like it's a filthy thing, throwing away even an opportunity to at least earn money and help the other three quarters of the world that's constantly malnourished?? How can you be such a coward that you can't even face up to living, that you'd prefer even such a painful way of death? I thought you were at least brave, Hyuuga, not a bastardly cur who can't even accomplish something 99% of the world can do; be grateful for your life! How dare you make the Academy or some poor taxpayer pay for your funeral when there're infants starving to death in some third world country?? How could you?!"

He glowered at the girl, breathing heavily from her outburst.

"Yes, how could I throw my life away, you ask?" he said sarcastically, "how could I just fling my precious life away? You know nothing, little girl. You have no idea what I am."

Pausing, he glared before continuing, "With your idealised world murderers should all just die and rot in hell, right?"

Mikan opened her mouth, but Natsume beat her to it.

"Well, since naïve little you obviously agree with me, then my death has already been overdue, for nine fucking years. So don't waste your pretty little breath on me, because you know nothing about me."

He smiled dangerously, before continuing in a strangely calm voice.

"Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, a five year old boy intentionally set his house on fire in the middle of the night. He had wanted the fire to consume the whole house, and with satisfaction , watch it burn down to the ground. And guess what? It did. In fact, it did so completely that it burnt everything down with it. Including his mother, his father, and his two year old sister. He knew he was a murderer. He already murdered his own family. He was the one that should've been burnt down with them, but for some damn reason, he wasn't. And he continues, to this day, to seek to burn down others. A murderer. A danger to society. Someone whose life won't save people, but kill them. Do you really think he deserves to live? Do you?"

Mikan was frozen, the dark haired boy pinning her down with his smouldering glare. But something didn't click.

"You never intentionally killed them, did you?"

Natsume looked away, angry. Mikan curled up beside his bed, carefully folding her bare legs into her arms. It was a cold night.

His hoarse whisper came like a flickering candle, blown away in the wind.

"No, but I may as well have, for all that matters. They're dead, and it's my entire fault."

She smiled at him, trying to search for something in his broken figure.

"Hyuuga," she said softly, "stop trying to take responsibility for everything. Because it isn't your fault."

Natsume froze.

"It is too my fault. I deliberately set fire to the stove."

Mikan sounded exasperated.

"You were five."

He stared at the wooden salad bowl, next to her small figure.

"That's no excuse, because I knew the consequences. I had been drilled in fire safety since I was born."

"So? You didn't set the fire with the intention to kill off your family. You set the fire beca- why did you set the fire?"

Natsume concentrated on the swirling patterns of his blood.

"Because if I didn't, I was going to die."

Mikan stared at him, surprised.

He smiled wryly.

"You still think I ought to live? Little girl, I'm clinically diagnosed with pyromania. I uncontrollably set fire to everything. I'm a hazard. A danger to society. One day, I'm sure to succeed in burning down a forest or a building in this damn school. And I refuse to murder anyone else again."

Mikan glared.

He sighed, before correcting himself.

"And I refuse to commit manslaughter again. Happy?" he said coldly, before repeating, "Do you think I still should live?"

Standing up, Mikan picked up the bowl and marched into his ensuite, pouring the blood into the toilet.

"I think you should recover, and use your amazing intelligence to earn lots of money and become a philanthropist," she smiled cheerfully, "but I guess it's up to you. You can become an environmentalist instead, championing the endangered animals and using your power to protect them."

Natsume said nothing, but thoughtfully strode over to his wardrobe, before he realised his fingers were too numb to move.

"Sakura?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you help me put a shirt on?"

………………………………………………………………

1 year from present day

Her scent was in the air, something nearly tangible. And he was here again, standing in her bygone presence, just wishing. Ruka knew something had happened between his best friend and his girlfriend, he can see how, like the north and south poles, they're gravitating towards each other.

The boy sighed, and looked at his watch again. 4.06pm; the movie had started an hour ago.

He stretched languidly on the metal bench outside the theatre, and balanced the book he brought to read while he waited for the ever so late Mikan on the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes. Really, it was quite a beautiful summer day.

And then, through the silence came a sound Ruka would recognise a million miles away. A camera clicked.

Startled, Ruka leapt up, the action thriller falling onto the pavement.

"Imai?"

Hotaru studied him with disinterest, her amethyst eyes boring into his.

"Mikan has completely forgotten. She'll remember approximately two to three hours after the movie finished, but it's your funeral."

Frowning, he made a half-hearted attempt to block his face before surrendering.

"What do you want? Other than photos, obviously."

The stoic girl replied with a few more snapshots of the boy trying in vain to cover up the lens.

"This is going to cause a lot of heartbreak for her if you keep on misleading her."

He growled.

"Is she the only person you care about? Have you ever taken into consideration my feelings?"

"Your feelings are nothing but friendship Nogi. Get over it before she comes running to me for consultation."

Standing up, Ruka glared at the Ice Queen, before exploding.

"Is that all I am, a third wheel? A simple road block between Mikan and Natsume?? Yes, I very well damn know that they're probably in love! But don't you dare forget that I've been her boyfriend for two years and I'm still in love with her too! Don't you dare decide what I feel for me! I won't just become an emotionless object that she can forget about, because I know she likes me back and we did have a connection. And have you ever even considered how my best friend stealing my girlfriend would reflect on me? How I feel as if maybe I should've never been born?! I am not just an object that you can make money out of, not just an obstacle to Mikan's happiness. Because, at one time, I contributed to that. And I'm not about to let you forget it."

A moment passed, as he glared at her mildly surprised face.

"You have nothing to say? I didn't think so either. Sell my photos Imai, and buy some damn compassion."

Scowling, he picked up the book and without looking back, he stomped away.

Hotaru blinked for a second, staring at his back as he walked away. She had always known that Ruka was the opposite of his best friend; Natsume would always lash out at things, but Ruka would keep bottling it up…until it exploded. She blinked again, and rubbed her eyes, her coldly logical mind pointing out that, it really is impossible, but…she swore that his back had grown broader since she last saw it yesterday. Smiling for the first time in a week, Hotaru flicked through the photos of a tired Ruka on the screen of her digital camera. He had grown up.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

A week later-

Persona regarded the boy carefully before restudying a detailed scan of his neurological pathways. The hiccup in the cerebellum, causing pyromania, had faded. And he could see the improvement: Natsume had somehow done what Persona thought he'd never achieve, reconciling himself with the death of his family. A far cry from the little mute boy that first arrived, haunted by constant nightmares, uncontrollably setting things on fire.

And he was damn sure that it was because of nothing he had done. Something clicked into place.

"Who is she?
Natsume placed a high kick on the punching bag, before replying, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Someone must've cured your suicidal streak," he sighed, "don't play dumb."

"No one."

"Who is she?" he repeated, unmoving.

Left jab, straight punch, right hook.

"Is it that unbelievable I convinced myself that I didn't murder my family?"

"Yes. There is less than 1% chance that you would've cured yourself."

Roundhouse kick, right uppercut, left hook.

"What if I had fallen into that 1% range?"

"Who is she?"

Natsume gave him a guarded look. He had never liked the spiteful psychiatrist, knowing fully well that he had only taken him to be a guinea pig for his new medicines, which no one was willing to test. Natsume tried a different tactic.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you're my test subject and I must know all the dependent variables. Including your girlfriend."

The hard kick broke into the battered punching bag, the filling spilling onto the ground in a loud trickle.

"No."

He smiled thinly.

"Fine then. Have it your way, Kuro Neko. I will have her name though."

And with that sentence, he spun his heel and gracefully made his way to the door, before pausing.

"Oh, and as you are fully well aware, you are only here because of the Academy's kindness," he said smoothly, "from your official discharge of my care you will be utilising your abilities to help the Academy to deal with matters that require a representative, who has superior combat knowledge."

Natsume scowled, and sat down.

"So when the morons are finished using my body as a guinea pig, they send me away to kill myself?"

"No, not to kill yourself. After all, if you died on your first mission, you would prove absolutely useless to us."

He smiled wryly before the cold scientist left the room, looking at the broken punching bag. Before he had believed Persona had him train to vent his anger, but now he understood the higher purpose. But of course, there's always a higher purpose when it came to the sneaky bastard.


Part two shall come soon!

Some food for thought: Natsume's argument for his suicidal streak is that he killed his family and is a danger to society. Obviously he's been brought up this way, but for a second, pretend Natsume is real (*drool*). Okay, now ask yourself: in the real world and thinking logically, should Natsume die?

My opinion-

Natsume: Who cares about your opinion?

Tiria: Shut up, emo.

Mikan: Of course he shouldn't!

Tiria: Biased.

Mikan: *sticks out tongue*

Tiria. Ahem. I actually do think he should. Remember: he was insane, uncontrollable and a pyromaniac. Before Mikan and Ruka rescued him, of course. But luckily, this is a fanfiction, he is really rather hot, and he recovers anyway. Hehe.

Natsume: WHAT? Are you serious?

Tiria: Deadly. Hey, does this mean the ending is actually now unpredictable? Yay!

Natsume:....

Narumi: I'm gay!

Ruka: And I'm an Amish transvestite. But don't tell Hotaru

Tiria: Your secrets are safe with me.

Hotaru: *shoots everyone* get back on topic, baka.

Tiria: *meekly* Hai...

Please Review! And tell me what you think of people's arguments! (esp. Mikan's when she was yelling at shirtless Natsume. I think I lefy my rationality under the bed when I wrote that)