Beautiful Monday
Summary: Oh beautiful Monday. And the world is having its "Let's-annoy-the-heck-out-of-Mikan-day" again. OneShot.
Set: story-unrelated, future-fic
Warning: Features a Mikan app. 17 years old.
Disclaimer: Standards apply.
Monday morning, ten past eight, and the week doesn't seem like it will ever come to an end.
Mikan felt like she had been running on high voltage power since Thursday and the weekend hadn't done anything to calm her down. She probably shouldn't have volunteered to prepare the Christmas Ball – but seeing that she was a member of the Principality (even though she had the silent suspicion she only had been chosen because Natsume was a Principal, too) and she was a member of the Hanahime and she was – when the heck had she become such an important person in the Academy? Important as in "if-you-need-anything-call-Sakura-she'll-surely-help-you-she's-dumb-enough". Well, she didn't really care for it most of the time. She liked to help, liked to show around and tutor the new kids from the elementary branch, liked to prepare games for the Special Ability's class and liked to help with preparations of various festivals and events. But how the hell had she ended up being the head of the organization team?
Hotaru probably would have snorted and told her to stop feeling sorry for herself.
Ruka would have offered to help her.
Natsume would throw her a condescending look and continue to stare out of the window. He had stopped reading manga when he had turned sixteen – even though Mikan was sure he still had them. He just didn't read them in public – it was so like him.
Yeah. Just one problem there:
Hotaru was in Europe for half a year, on a "business trip" a company had organized. Ruka had his hands full with his own work – he had volunteered to lead the kid's cleaning week and although hundreds of girls (and a few boys) suddenly had volunteered, the school grounds were vast enough to keep them busy for days. And Natsume… Mikan huffed in indignation.
Of course, Natsume wouldn't help her.
"Sakura, where do you want us to put the baskets with living ivy and fir? Misaki-Sensei and the Plant Alices have just arrived!"
"Mikan, have you seen the box of garlands? I put it on the cabinet yesterday, and today it was gone!"
"Mikan, there is a fire in the kitchen, come quick!"
"Sakura, do you think we should add some more lights? And artificial snow? Isn't it too exaggerated?"
"Mikan, Jinno-Sensei said if we don't keep it low he's going to grill us!"
"Mikan, what should we do? There aren't enough ribbons left to decorate the entire tree!"
There was so much to do. She felt like her head was bursting from the noise and the myriads of questions, requests, advices and demands that had been following her for one entire week. She couldn't even remember having eaten, even less slept, at all. She just remembered running around, fixing this, replacing that, ordering more juice, sending back unwanted food, rearranging garlands of ivy and fir, scolding a few all too enthusiastic elementary kids who had been busy planting Christmas trees inside the hall… And now, Monday had come.
-v-
And gone. Suddenly, it was evening again and she couldn't remember having had anything remotely like a break.
It was wet outside. It had been snowing the entire weekend but since midday, rain had started and was pouring down continuously. The snow blanket, beautifully white and virginal, had been reduced to puddles of grey and brown mud and slush. Dragging her feet through the wet element, Mikan felt her boots surrender to the wetness. Her socks soon were soaked. She bit down a silent curse and tried to avoid deep puddles on her way to the High School division but she could have tried to catch Hotaru smiling instead. At least, Hotaru did smile once in a while.
Mikan sighed. She missed her best friend.
Her hands were frozen by the time she arrived at the building. Darkness was beginning to fall, not unusual for the time of the year. It wasn't late and yet she felt exhausted to the bone. Hanging up her dripping jacket, she slipped out of her wet boots and brushed aside a strand of hair that had plastered itself across her face.
Mentally, she checked her list:
Talked to Misaki-Sensei about those trees the children have planted – check.
Convinced Anna and Nobuko to create edible, nice-looking sweets for the little ones – check.
Asked Ruka to talk to Mr. Bear about the snow cleaning – check.
Calmed down Jinno-Sensei – umm, well, tried to. Rather unsuccessfully. Check.
Informed Shiki-San about the Middle School's idea to act a play – check.
Talked to the Band – uhrg. Forgotten, have to do so tomorrow.
Sent the official invitations for the teachers – check.
Done homework for tomorrow – why do I have to do the homework while organizing the Christmas Ball?
Raging inwardly, she dragged herself into the little room she had called her own for the last two years in the High School Division (it wasn't like her first room in the Elementary Division at all but then, she wasn't a child any more). Quickly showering and putting on a long T-shirt and jogging pants she let herself fall into the chair at the desk. Her book was opened at the precise page she had yet to read, her pens ready and paper carefully arranged. She stared into the book without seeing anything and felt her eyelids droop.
She was so damn tired.
No.
Get a grip, Sakura! Jinno will ask about this tomorrow, you can be sure, and he'll specifically ask you so you'd better know the answers to his questions…
Whether a conjugated ring-system is aromatic or not is defined by the rule of Hückel which states that it has to be in possession of 4n+2 Valence electrons. Benzene is the most common example for cyclic alkenes and reacts…
Ummm… What?
Rubbing her eyes, she grabbed the pen and started to jot down notes on the topic. Then, she went over the list of things that had to be done for the Christmas Ball. It proved to be too much for her liking but she had to start somewhere… So she started to put together a list of High School students for the patrolling duty during Christmas Night. Over another list, the question who would hold a speech, the matter of the dinner and the visitor rules for the day, she worked herself through the papers on her desk. Then she checked the clock on her nightstand. Eleven pm and she still had to read the topic on Alice History and the last Great War for Serena-Sensei…
Pulling out the book, she stifled a yawn. Oh beautiful Monday, she thought sarcastically. Obviously, the world had been playing "Let's-annoy-the-heck-out-of-Mikan" again today. She felt like she wouldn't be able to keep up any longer. Of course, her self-protection Alice was of no use whatsoever when it came to clammy, cold days, lost money, strange food, headstrong friends and annoying teachers. And she just had wanted to enjoy those last weeks until Christmas, had wanted to finish the school work and relax and go out and have a nice time…
But no, she had to volunteer.
Well done.
If at least weather and situation could have eased her efforts. But everything she had done today seemed like she was shouting while a strong wind was coming towards her, ripping her words right off her lips and letting them vanish in the howling elements. She felt like fighting against windmills, like struggling while being buried hip-deep in an avalanche, like…
And now you're drowning in self-pity. Get a grip.
She got a grip. She read the chapter and even managed to answer two of the five questions Serena-Sensei had given them. Then her brain shut down.
She had, she finally realized, already read the same sentence trice. Burying her face in her hands, she closed her eyes and sighed. And even if she went to bed, she'd be unable to sleep because all those unfinished chores would follow her. In such nights, cold winter nights without Hotaru and Ruka or even Natsume, the nightmares returned.
The Elementary Principal, and Persona, and her mother's dead features. And darkness. Months in a big, dark house, no one else except the Principal and Persona and darkness. Not the darkness of darkness but the darkness of being alone, of being left behind. And the fear knowing Natsume was trying to get her out of there and also knowing he was only hurting himself… The Principal used to taunt her, telling her of how Natsume had been brought to the hospital because his lungs had failed when he had tried to find her. Or when he had told her Hotaru was being punished, and Ruka, too, and that it was her fault, hers alone, and…
With a silent thump her head hit her book on the table and she jerked awake again, terrified by the images that had come to haunt her once again. Every time she thought she had buried them deep inside her they would return at random, whenever she was stressed and exhausted. She stared at her hands for a while until her breath came more evenly and her heart had slowed down. And then it peaked again because her door opened silently and a dark figure emerged in the entrance. She almost fell off her chair.
"Natsume! Oh my God – can't you knock?"
Of course he could and of course he'd never do it. He never had, never would. She knew him well enough to know that much.
His dark eyes regarded her inquisitively while he stood there, her door silently falling closed behind him. Mikan pressed a hand on her heart to calm it. Again.
"What are you doing here?"
The last time he had been in her room, she realized, had been two years ago. Approximately. At his sight, familiar emotions bubbled up inside of her. She raised a brow.
"What? You enter my room without announcing yourself and then you just stand there?"
He regarded her quietly. She crossed her arms. His hands were hidden in his pockets. Then, he opened his mouth.
"When have you slept the last time?"
Surprised, her brows rose almost all the way up to her hair.
"Why do you ask?"
He didn't answer, just stared at her with something in his eyes that made her righteous anger falter.
"When?"
She huffed. "Last night."
"How long?"
"What do you care?"
"How long?"
"Five hours?"
A dead Natsume, a dead Ruka. Hotaru, bleeding and wounded, and Persona, staring at her grimly. The Elementary Principal, calling her my little pet. Her mother, staring into the darkness without seeing anything, and two years of imprisonment in a dark room. All in all, not one of her better nights. But who cared as long as she functioned during day? Maybe after Christmas she could calm down, get some sleep. Relax. Then, the dreams would stop. Maybe…
"Stupid."
Natsume's voice never conveyed his emotions. It had, once, before she had been taken away. Since then she had rarely seen the Natsume she had seen the day her mother had died. Her Natsume.
"Lay down," he ordered and shoved a thumb towards her bed. She stared at him.
"What?"
"You're going to bed. Now."
"That's not yours to…"
"Now."
He started towards her and she backed away until she felt the edge of her bed in the hollow of her knee. Natsume made another step and reached out for her and she huffed and climbed into her bed. Sitting there, in the midst of pillows and blankets, she stared up at him grimly.
"Now what?"
"Sleep."
He looked at her with an intensity that made her swallow whatever she had wanted to retort. She could as well lie down and pretend to be asleep until he left again. She didn't feel like arguing, in fact, she was too exhausted to even do that. So she lay back but her eyes didn't leave his.
"Happy now?"
"No." He came closer, pushed his shoes off his feet and laid down next to her. Mikan recoiled in surprise and stemmed herself up on her elbow.
"What's that supposed to…"
"Shut up and sleep," he told her without heat or mean intention in his voice. "I don't want to hear your voice."
The week was taking its toll. Her arms and legs felt heavy, like she couldn't use them anymore. Her eyelids began to drop.
"Stupid," she murmured into her pillow. Then she shoved another one at him. "Take it."
He took it and propped his head up on it and suddenly his face was on the same height as hers was. There still was enough space between them but as he watched her she saw something indescribably soft in his eyes. Already half asleep, she smiled and closed her eyes. She pulled up the blanket so it covered them both and felt the warmth of his body next to her.
"Good Night."
When Natsume finally answered – after such a long time she wondered whether he had really said it or if she was dreaming – he only said one word. But it chased away nightmares and stress and let her fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.