DISCLAIMER: Sunrise still owns Mai-HiME and Mai-Otome. The 1952 song, "You Belong to Me," was the inspiration for this series, hence the title. This wonderful song was written by Chilton Price and recorded by Jo Stafford.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the first joint series from my most beloved E.M. Praetorian and me. Actually, this is the very first piece from our joint account. I hope all our fans and readers enjoy this series, as well as future works from us.

You Belong to Me

When I got home after another long day at Fuka Academy, I grabbed a drink from the refrigerator and went to check my email. As my new email downloaded to my laptop, I sighed as I saw the same spam roll by. The last email caught my eye, because it did not look like the usual ad for breast enhancement or penis enlargement. It was from an email address I didn't recognize. I remembered Natsuki's warning mantra about opening email from people I didn't know, but…

"Lara Croft? From 'Tomb Raider'? Why would Angelina Jolie be writing to me?"

I laughed hard at my own silliness. Completely ignoring Natsuki's stern voice in my head, I clicked on it.

'Long time, no hear, huh? Miss me? I've certainly been missing you. I just wanted to drop you a quick note before I don't have access to email again.'

I sat staring at the email, completely baffled. In my mind, I ran through all the people I knew who would send an email like this. After a few seconds, I snapped my fingers and smiled.

"MIDORI!"

My mind drifted back to the day she said goodbye…

Midori paced the floor of my apartment. Her professor finally asked her to accompany him on a yearlong archaeological dig and for some strange reason; she didn't know what to tell him. I sat on my couch and watched her wear a circular pattern into my carpet, waiting for her to speak.

"Youko, you, of all people, know I need to do this," Midori stood in front of me and held my hands in both of hers.

"Yes, Midori, you know I completely understand," I smiled, trying hard to convey my sincerity through my own selfish heartache and disappointment.

Earlier that day…

We recently graduated from University together and I accepted a nursing position at the prestigious Fuka Academy. They offered Midori a position teaching History, which she accepted. I was elated when she told me, because I really wasn't looking forward to being without her after all these years together.

We decided to treat ourselves to an expensive dinner, to celebrate our good fortune of finding good paying positions right out of University. Over dinner, Midori suggested we share an apartment in Fuka for the first year. My heart soared and I readily agreed. By her second glass of wine, Midori was flirting outrageously and making me blush profusely.

"Let's go back to your place," Midori leaned over the table and whispered close to my ear.

"Midori," I lightly reprimanded, "You know how I feel about you making promises you don't intend to keep."

"Youko, when have I made promises I didn't keep?" Midori asked, a bit hurt.

I thought back and apologized. When it came to sex, Midori never made promises she didn't keep. Unfortunately, she never made promises of love.

"Okay, let me pay the bill so we can go," I kissed Midori's cheek and made her blush.

A drunken Midori is wonderfully free and I can get away with doing these sorts of things without upsetting her. A sober Midori is too repressed and uncomfortable. I placed my credit card down and while we waited for our waiter to return, Midori's mobile phone rang. She greeted the caller and excused herself.

I felt my heart sink as I watched her walk towards the restrooms. Somehow, I just knew this was not good and downed the remainder of my wine. When Midori returned to our table, the bill was paid and I was ready to leave.

"Let's go," I suggested happily and linked my arm in hers.

Midori silently nodded her head. Her demeanor was now unusually somber.

"Midori…?" I asked as I pulled her out of the restaurant.

"Hmmm…?" Midori mumbled as she stared down at the sidewalk under us.

"What happened?" I stopped and forced her to face me.

The crestfallen look on Midori's face spoke volumes and it confirmed my earlier suspicions.

"It was the Professor," Midori replied evenly.

"A new dig?" I asked flatly.

"Yes," Midori softly replied.

"When…?" I asked dejectedly.

"He wants to leave by the end of the week." Midori replied in a pained tone.

"BUT…," I exclaimed a bit too loud.

"Youko, I know, I know," Midori said in a reassuring tone, "I'm not too happy about this either," she added, sounding somewhat hoarse.

"Then don't go," I pouted, rather uncharacteristically.

Midori silently stared at the sidewalk outside the restaurant. I could see she was torn, but unfortunately, at that moment, I was not in a sympathetic mood.

"Youko…?" Midori looked up into my eyes with tears in hers.

I could not hide my surprise, because in all the years I've known her, Midori rarely, if ever, cried.

"Okay…I won't go," Midori muttered defeated.

Once again, I found myself staring at the top of Midori's head as she stared at the sidewalk again.

"The hell you won't!" I exclaimed.

Midori started in surprise and swiftly lifted her head to face me. She stared incredulous at me, her eyes wide with confusion.

"But, but…," Midori sputtered.

An uneasy feeling made me glance around us. I realized we had become the center of unwanted attention from a couple of seedy looking young men leaning against the side of the restaurant building.

"Midori, I think we had better continue this at my place," I motioned in the direction of the two seedy young men staring at us, "And please don't get stupidly brave on me," I pleaded.

I linked my arm into Midori's and led her away from the front of the restaurant. A quick glance over our shoulders confirmed my worst nightmare. The two seedy young men were shadowing us, waiting for us to get to a less populated area.

"I think we should splurge for a taxi tonight," I whispered in Midori's ear.

Fortunately, we were able to hail a taxi about a minute later. Kami must have been looking out for us, because catching a taxi at that hour is usually quite difficult.

After we got back to my place, we got comfortable and talked into the wee hours of the next morning.