Summary: Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover.
Disclaimer: I'm not rich. I'm not even Japanese. So I own Gakuen Alice. *Natsume throws fire balls at me* - this applies to all succeeding chapters
Wedding Bells
Chapter One
.
By: cheerry-blossoms
.
.
.
.
.
"Please don't leave our debutante alone there. Wait for the next guy to approach you, do you understand?" A pretty brunette in her mid-twenties holding sticks of blue roses and cradling a red clipboard on her other arm spoke in fluent Korean. The young boys formed in a line nodded obediently, their squinty eyes directed to the pair under the spotlight dancing to a slow music at the center of the hall.
The brunette's honey orbs brightened when the host announced a boy's name through the microphone. She handed a rose to the boy next to her and gave his shoulder a light tap, signaling him to stride towards the pair who were looking at him, grinning. The boy shyly pushed the rose to the birthday girl, who heartily laughed at him, but still accepted the rose before dancing with him.
Soon, the boys who were lined beside her were all called; it was already time for the last dance. Amused sounds from the audience erupted the moment the song had changed just for the special dance with the lady's escort. The lighting effects also added to achieve a more romantic feel to the dance.
She felt a pang in her chest listening to 'For a Moment Like This.' That song was a special request from the debutante to be played in this particular part, for it is their theme song.
A heavy sigh left her pink lips watching the young couple happily dancing at the center as if no one's around them, a loving aura radiating from the two. All eyes are on them.
The debutante indeed looked like a princess tonight; after all, she'd wanted to experience being one for her eighteenth birthday. She's in her white and silver princess gown, her light brown hair pulled up in a messy bun where a few loose curled strands are framing her face. A tiara was neatly nestled on the top of her head. But the sparkling sequins scattered on her dress could not rival to the shine on her black irises focused on the handsome black-haired boy she was dancing with. The boy had that same adoring look on his dark brown orbs.
For a moment, a memory of another pair of a young brunette and a raven-haired boy swaying to a slow love song flashed back to her. It almost brought tears to her eyes.
But that moment was instantly gone for the debutante's mother suddenly talked to her, completely snapping her out of her thoughts. And she was thankful for the distraction.
This was the first debut she had arranged in her almost three years of experience. Most of her projects before this were weddings, and there were few birthday parties. Her first client was a Japanese couple who were her workmates. It was just a trial, because the couple did not want to spend too much for a coordinator and thought she could do it, but then she was continuously referred to their clients' acquaintances after that, so she thought of sticking to this business.
The debutante tonight was the niece of the first Korean couple who became her client, and because she did a good job on their wedding, her parents, who were also present in the occasion, went to her for help. She was ecstatic when they talked to her.
She loved birthdays.
The event ended successfully. The debutante shed tears of joy during her speech to thank all of the guests. The young ones went home exhausted yet with big smiles on their faces after the wild party.
Even if she's not part of the celebration, she, too, had fun watching everyone participate in the program she had arranged.
Being an events coordinator was a very stressful job—running here and there, talking to different people every hour—it's much more tiring than when she was still in Marketing. Still, at the end of the day, when her clients give her their heartfelt gratitude, everything was worth it.
After settling things with her client and the suppliers, she headed directly to a secluded cafe in the outskirts of Seoul, near her apartment. All tired muscles in her body gradually relaxed when the fresh aroma of coffee welcomed her senses. Also, the warmth given off by the cafe was what she needed in the chilly weather. November was fast approaching, and so was winter.
At the soft chiming of the bell on the door, the pretty red head behind the cash register snapped her gaze to the entrance and beamed at the newcomer. "Mikan-chan!" The cashier greeted her in Japanese.
Sakura Mikan's smile brightened as she returned the greeting. Aside from the location, one reason she loved this cafe was because it was owned and ran by Japanese. Plus, most of its customers are Japanese, too. Whenever she misses her homeland, she visits the place. It became her sanctuary.
After telling the cashier her order and paying for it, her eyes roamed around the people chattering in their national language, expecting to see a certain woman she was supposed to meet. It was a nice break from spending the whole day with foreigners speaking in a foreign language. Apparently, six years was still not enough for her to get used to the country's ways.
She clapped her hands in excitement spotting a familiar mop of neat black hair at a corner, its owner sipping on her frappe.
"Hotaruuuuuu!" She squealed with open arms while running to the lone woman in a lab coat. Said lone woman immediately pulled out a small portable cannon and directed it to Mikan without sparing her a glance.
Pouting, Mikan took the seat across the short-haired woman who finally hid her weapon. It was not that harmless, actually. It was an upgraded version of one of Imai Hotaru's first inventions called the Baka Gun 'two-point-oh' which releases large toy bullets, activated when someone did an idiotic thing. It can lead to injury and collapse. Mikan was its unfortunate recipient most of the time.
"Ne, ne, Hotaru, I've got good news! Tsubasa-senpai and Misaki-senpai are getting married!" Mikan exclaims with a dreamy look on her face.
The black-haired lady's unemotional amethyst eyes met with Mikan's excited chocolate ones. The former calmly replied, "I assume you are their coordinator?"
"Yup! And you're invited, too!"
"When is it?"
"They want to hold it during the spring." Mikan shrugged. Which means, they may still have more than five months to prepare.
"When are you going?"
"I already booked a flight for next week."
"I see..." There was a short pause in the conversation, before Hotaru added, "But I can't go with you there now, Mikan."
Mikan's eyes softened at the change in Hotaru's usual strong tone. Her best friend really knew her well, more than she could ever know herself.
"Yeah, yeah, you're busy. I'll let you know when's the wedding gonna be."
Hotaru sighed, leaning on the seat's backrest and pressed two fingers on her forehead. Exhaustion was evident on her beautiful features, making her look a little older than her actual age. Working in the top technology company sure does drain all energy from you. "Are you ready to go back to Japan?" Hotaru carefully asked the other woman; Japan was a touchy subject between them.
'She's worried again.' Knowing how worrywart her best friend can be, Mikan flashed her best smile to the stoic woman before her. Her smiles can magically ease Hotaru's worries. "Uhuh! I'm a big girl now! Besides, I haven't visited grandpa for years! He'll get angry at me!" She exclaimed.
The thought of not visiting her grandpa made her frown a fraction. The last time she visited him was six years ago.
Surrendering to her best friend's stubbornness, Hotaru nodded. "Say hi to him for me."
Mikan beamed. Now that's her Hotaru.
"Yes!"
.
.
On her way to the hall for a wedding ceremony she was handling, she stumbled upon a Japanese woman in her early thirties who was her client. The woman was her workmate from her previous job, and recently got married to a Korean businessman one month ago.
It was the most challenging wedding she had handled so far. The couple had wanted a beach wedding in Jeju, and since she was used to booking halls before that, the process had been stressful to her. Nonetheless, she had fun exploring her creativity and resources. It was a memorable experience, anyway, which she could use in the future. She had a feeling her favourite senpais would want something like that. Or worse.
She swore Ayame, the new wife, had been more beautiful than the last time she saw her. Love indeed can bring about changes to a person.
"Ayame-san! How's the honeymoon?" Mikan greeted the blooming wife.
"It's great!" If she could recall correctly, the new Mr. and Mrs. Kim have agreed on touring Europe for their honeymoon. No wonder her friend had a wonderful time. It was evident on the stars in her eyes while she's narrating her experiences.
Then, Ayame brought out two small red envelopes from her shoulder bag and gave it to the coordinator. "Mikan-san, really, thank you for organizing our wedding! All of us had so much fun! Please accept our gift!"
"I-It's an honor! What are these?" Mikan hesitantly took the envelope. Inside it were two tickets to a photo exhibit by professional photographers from all over the world, to be held in Seoul Institute of the Arts.
"Well, my husband—oh my god that sounded so nice!—he received tickets to that photo exhibit. It's not much, but we heard you love taking pictures? You'll surely enjoy there!"
True, she loved bringing out her camera during her free time or whenever she saw something precious. How she loved capturing people's raw emotions and preserving it. But she's not a professional; it was just a hobby. She even had no idea on apertures, angles, shots, and whatever photography technical terms there are. All she knew were the filters in Camera 360 and Retrica.
Her camera was actually invented by Hotaru and was given to her for her twenty-first birthday. Since then, it became one of her most prized treasures. She's a sentimental type of person.
"Wow, thank you!" Her mood got better because of it.
Ayame snapped her fingers and bounced on her heels. "Oh! I heard one of the featured photographers is a Japanese, too. Aaaand he's around your age and is single! Maybe you can, you know..."
Mikan sheepishly smiled at the suggestive look her friend was giving her. "Gee, why does everyone wants me to date? I'm really not interested yet..."
Except Hotaru, her friends in Korea had been setting her up with various guys, Japanese and Korean. She tried getting along with them, she really did, but there was no spark. The kind of spark she had with...
You know, the spark. Yeah.
"Because, an excellent wedding coordinator like you to have no partner in life is unbelievable!"
'You are unbelievable,' she thought.
"We'll get to that soon."
Yeah, soon.
.
.
Privileged to be loaded since birth, he can go to countries easier than normal as if he's riding a cab.
He was used to airplanes and jet lags, anyway. Due to his parents' businesses, they constantly transfer to different cities and provinces. They had no permanent address. So, he did not have many friends.
Perhaps, his longest stay in a place was in Tokyo, during his Middle School to High School days. He actually thought they would finally settle down there, because his family loved Tokyo. He would not mind, at all.
Those were, without doubt, the best years in his life.
He did not want to go.
Unfortunate things happened, and he had to let go of the place he had become fond of, the memories with the people he began cherishing (although he will never voice that out), and the only woman he had loved.
That was his biggest regret.
Now that he's given the freedom he needed, he made sure to frequently go back to that precious place. Only that, his precious person was not there anymore. No one knew where she went.
Still, he would wait for her. No, scratch that. He would look for her.
To appreciate the beauty of the world and expose its ugliness, he decided to travel the world and take up photography.
No, it was not a childhood dream or anything. In fact, he had never entertained that thought when he was still young. He had just wanted to showcase the reality of life that he saw through his eyes. He wanted to share it to the world. He figured Photography was one of the best ways to achieve that.
Thankfully, he discovered he had the talent for it. He knew the right timing; the right angle. He knew the right subjects. His trusted camera knew what to capture. His finger knew when to hit the shutter button. Maybe he was meant to be in this industry.
Or maybe it was because he was a genius.
He was known for his candid, black and white style. His best friend often joked that all of his photos were emo just like him, to which he replied with a mere snort.
His best friend was as perceptive as ever of him, though. It was exactly as he had said. His life was practically colorless, ever since he walked away from the sun—his sun. He was still in the process of truly appreciating the smallest of things, but until he gets back his reason to smile, his photos will remain that way. Besides, one can appreciate life even if it's in black and white. Not all colorful things are beautiful.
There are still more to learn, to discover about this world. There are more places to search for the sole meaning of his life. He will not stop. For her.
He was not the most known in the industry. Not yet. To his credit, he was one of the rising stars. His pieces are slowly getting recognized worldwide. He had been invited to join more photo exhibits this year. The pay had been pretty good, too. Interested buyers increased.
If given the opportunity, he might be able to put up his own solo exhibit soon.
.
.
Seoul Institute of the Arts students and other guests, including a few media men, flocked excitedly inside the gigantic hall. Groups of them were carefully observing each of the framed masterpieces hung on the white walls while some were taking notes. Awe can be seen on their faces, which was to be expected, for the exhibit had gathered the works of the best rookies in the world of photography. Plus, the artists themselves were present.
If there was one thing Hyuuga Natsume loathed the most, it was a nosy, annoying crowd. He was bugged nonstop by the media and squealing female students the second he stepped out of the backroom. Majority of them were blabbing in Korean, so how was he supposed to understand them? He hated it when someone was shouting at him until his eardrums bled.
It was not even five minutes from his appearance and he already wanted to go back to his solitary.
Thank Kami for his assistant for coming to his rescue.
"Excuse me, niisan," his assistant, Hijiri Youichi, whispered to him and handed him his phone. "You've got a call from Andou. Says it's urgent."
For the first time in his twenty-four—nearly twenty-five—years of existence, he was a little grateful to that Andou. There was no way he will tell him that.
Quite enthusiastically, (honestly though, he was not enthusiastic to talk to that old man) he accepted the phone and excused himself, eagerly making his way to the backroom. Finally, he's alone!
"What." He rudely answered. Not that the other minded.
"Oi, brat! This is your awesome Tsubasa-senpai!" Said the older male from the other line. Andou Tsubasa was an annoying upperclassman when he was still in Middle School. Tsubasa was older than Natsume by four years.
"Bye." He still doesn't respect him, though.
"WAIT! WAIT! Hear me out first, geez!"
"What. Do. You. Need." He growled. He's sure Andou's reason for the overseas call was not urgent and significant. He's not in the mood to deal with his nonsense.
"I'm sure you've heard the wonderful news that I'll be finally tying the knot with my—"
"Get to the point, old bald man." He rolled his eyes. Andou easily got on his nerves. Tsubasa was like an older male version of her.
Tsubasa clicked his tongue. "Still so impatient! And I'm not old and bald! Anyways, we want to hire you as our official photo—" He knew where this will lead.
"No."
"WHAT! But Natsumeeehhh!" Tsubasa whined. Natsume had the urge to throw his phone.
"That's Hyuuga-sama for you." He corrected. Hell, they're not close.
"Fine, HYUUGA. Please, Hyuuga-san? You're the only one we can trust."
"I'm a very busy person."
"And one of the best." Oh, so now he's resorting to inflating his ego? He actually thought it will work on him? Psh. Cheap.
"Hn. I don't do events, Andou." Events were just... unappealing to him. Birthdays, reunions, weddings... they leave a bitter taste on his tongue. Moreover, he could not imagine himself instructing a bunch of strangers on how and what to pose or whatever shit. He hated scripted stuff. Especially Andou. He can tolerate Harada, but not Andou. Never.
But what Andou said next caught him off guard.
"She's gonna be there, you know."
"Fine," He almost gasped hearing himself answer so quickly. That old bastard knew how to trick him. He was certain he could hear the older man grinning smugly. So he added, in hopes of regaining his dignity, "But I can't stay long."
Andou the bastard finally laughed. He did not like it. "I know, I know. We'll probably need you only for a meeting, then the pre-nup shoot and the actual wedding day. Depends on the coordinator."
Coordinator? He hated those privy coordinators who rush them all the time to meet with deadlines. As if their creative sides can be awakened whenever they wanted! Psh. "Let me know ahead so I can adjust my schedule." He sighed dejectedly. There's no turning back.
"Alright! Love you!"
He immediately ended the call.
"Disgusting."
.
.
As expected, the photos in the exhibit were amazing. Or maybe she really was just easy to impress.
The theme for the exhibit was "meaning." Although she could not, for the life of her, understand the deep meanings behind each photos, it was enough for her that the photos were pleasant to the eyes. That was why she could not make it as an artist... ever.
There was one photo that captured her interest. It was a photo of a sunset in the shore of a beach, and on the left side, there was a small full-body silhouette of a girl whose arms are widely spread. The angle was slightly low, so the photographer was, perhaps, sitting on a chair when he took it.
She was not an expert in photography, but anyone who sees this will know it was raw. It was not edited, it was caught in the spur of the moment, and this was taken years ago.
Still, it was... beautiful... She was captivated by the photo in a different way than those of the other better pictures did. Maybe it was because she loved beaches...
Or maybe because it reminded her of a person.
Her gaze landed on the small bronze plate under the bronze frame. The writings were in English.
"What... happiness... is...?" She read with narrowed eyes. She sucked in English.
A soft squeal from the center of the hall distracted her. Men carrying cameras, phones and tall lights, and female students were gathered to a circle. She could hear them talk altogether in Korean and English.
She could only catch some phrases.
"Plans... next location... exhibit..."
"What are your thoughts... others' entries... skills..."
"One photo... meaning... inspiration... girl..."
She hated the media. She pitied whoever was in the middle of that crowd's attention. But she could conclude that person had not replied to any questions yet, because they were not shutting up.
"Excuse me, niisan..."
Mikan's ears perked up hearing that come from the crowd. So the interviewee was the Japanese photographer? That must be him!
Mikan was always happy to meet a fellow Japanese in this country.
Let me see him... Let me see him... she chanted mentally while walking to the crowd.
However, a soft hand gripped her wrist. There she saw the older version of her, Yuka, who effortlessly maintained a youthful face, her similarly brown tresses cropped just above her shoulders.
Yuka gave birth to her before she even reached the legal age, that was why the two of them were often mistaken as siblings. Her mother was definitely more beautiful than her, though.
"Mom," she had gotten two tickets, and since she had not hung out with her mother recently, she decided to take Yuka with her for the exhibit. Luckily, they were both free for that day. Hotaru was not a fan of these events, after all.
Yuka raised her phone in her hand, her face looking apologetic. "My boss called me. She needed me at the office today. But we'll have lunch first, is that okay?" Her mother was working at a publishing company and they're in the busy season, so she understood if Yuka will be called even on her day off.
She smiled. "Of course, Mom! I'm craving for Jjajangmyeon!" She might not have been used to the country's ways, but she loved Korean cuisine, especially the noodles. Yuka laughed and agreed.
Mikan had let her mother pull her out of the hall. She took one last glance to the center; however, the crowd was already dispersing and there was no Japanese male in it.
.
.
While Mikan and her mother were in the car, Mikan's phone rang. She let her favourite song, 'Pika Pika No Taiyo' play for a few seconds before answering the phone without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello, this is Mikan!" She giddily answered in Korean. She was weirdly in a good mood today.
"What did you say?" The woman from the receiver spoke in Japanese. She quickly looked at the screen, and her eyes got wide seeing who called her. She immediately pressed it back on her ear.
"Aha! I'm sorry, Misaki-senpai! Was used to greeting that way!" She sheepishly grinned, her language shifting to Japanese. She saw Yuka giggling.
"Tsk. Korean girl. Anyway, the photographer said yes!" Harada Misaki squealed.
Mikan sighed in relief; she's got one less problem to deal with. She did not know any events photographer in Japan. Bringing one from Korea would be a hassle. It's a good thing Tsubasa said he had one photographer in mind, but that guy was hard to convince, and her favourite senpai seemed to have succeeded.
"That's great, Senpai! We'll immediately plan your schedule when I get there!"
"Sure, sure! I'll give you his contact number after you're settled. See you!"
Seems like today was her lucky day.
TO BE CONTINUED
*Jjajangmyeon = Korean black bean sauce noodles. IT TASTES GOOOOOD!
*I'm not really that familiar in the seasons in Japan and Korea, since it's different in my country, so forgive me if there are errors in my research. I'll change their seasons mehehehe
*This was unedited. Sobs.
*I haven't encountered a fic where Natsume is a photographer yet cos he's always the model. If there already is, then I obviously haven't read it yet lelels of course, I don't think an events coordinator is a commonly used profession for the characters so Imma try it out.
Soooo... how did I do? :)
cheerry