A/N: Hi! It feels like forever since I've updated :( I panicked and split this long day into two separate chapters since I figured it would be very long and I just wanted to give something to you guys without taking too long. In this chapter, Natsume and Mikan are both idiots and fail to understand each other while figuring that they do, which is ridiculous. This was fun and cute to write, so I hope you guys have a similar experience reading it. I can probably update soon again this week. I was gonna update earlier today but since I was accepted onto the competition team of Academic Decathlon for my school I wanted to study! I'll definitely try to post the fourth chapter by the end of this week! Anyway enjoy this chapter (and I do not own anything except for this weird dorky plot).


Chapter Three

Friday

Ruka Nogi, Natsume's best friend forever, was a flawed animal lover currently in training to be a vet.

Natsume remembered when they'd first met in a sweaty kindergarten classroom. The teacher - after noticing that not only did Natsume not have friends, he would torture the kids who did by setting their favorite toys on fire - paired him up with shy, sweet, similarly friendless Ruka.

It shouldn't have bloomed into friendship, what with Natsume being a wild, moody, stubborn troublemaker while Ruka was a quiet, gentle, amiable angel. But it seemed that the differences just led them closer and before they knew it, they were inseparable.

Natsume loved him more than anything (maybe at a tie with his younger sister, Aoi) and so he became a nervous wreck whenever it came to Ruka while Ruka began to be reckless and uninhibited when it came to Natsume (thus the monkey bars incident in third grade).

So considering Ruka's long, unexpected relationship with Natsume, his polar opposite, it shouldn't have been surprising when he started dating Hotaru Imai.

It shouldn't have been, but it was.

All of Ruka's girlfriends had been sweet and boring and all the same as the last. Brown hair, blue eyes, cute clothes. They always combined with Ruka to make a handsome couple and Ruka was always devastated when they broke up ("No, dude! This time was different! She was the one!").

His latest girlfriend wasn't just different from the others, she was unlike anybody on the entire planet. Hotaru Imai was an enigma, even to Natsume, and it was confounding how sweet, gentle, amiable angel Ruka Nogi wound up dating cold, blunt, indifferent statue Hotaru Imai.

And so it was with heavy reluctance that Natsume accepted Ruka's excited invitation to eat dinner with him and his "girl"friend.

"We're inviting one of Hotaru's friends as well so you don't get lonely," added Ruka, only after Natsume had half-heartedly accepted.

Natsume groaned.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't be a buzzkill!"

There he went again with his stupid accusations. "Fine," muttered Natsume irritably. Why was Ruka constantly trying to set him up with his girlfriends' friends?

But then Ruka beamed and Natsume softened. Getting Ruka to smile was always the only subconscious reason Natsume ever had for answering "Fine".

God knew it was worth it.

Natsume had filled a whole of two days trying to get the secretary to stop hating him without actually doing anything. That meant that he would do exactly the same thing as before, trying to get her to crack and start talking to him again before he did because he was sure he'd crack soon. Talking to her seemed to be relaxing, almost.

He got her to crack at an unlikely time, mid-Thursday afternoon. It was hot as hell in the hall, despite it being a cold November day outside, and Natsume had been flipping through some court cases with disinterest, mostly trying not to think about how hot it was. The secretary on the other side of Persona's door was fanning herself with her colorful notepad, biting her cheek, obviously in a foul mood. Natsume was starting to give up - it was hot and he was tired and bored. But he couldn't forfeit now and fall asleep when he had work to do and a secretary to keep an eye on!

So he slipped off his suit jacket in a half panic and started unbuttoning a few buttons of his white shirt.

"Uh...Uh…" came the secretary's anxious voice from the other side of the hall. He glanced at her and she averted his gaze immediately. "Umm...Uh….Yeah! When do you have to turn in your folders to Mr. Serio?"

Natsume was not an idiot - he knew she had cracked under the pressure of the heat and just wanted to talk to him again. Ha! He had won this time!

And just like that, they were back on speaking terms again, with her chattering happily from her desk while Natsume stayed mostly silent, content just to hear her talking - not because her voice sounded sweet or endearing, but because it was his job to hear her thoughts while he was not obligated to voice his own.

Natsume wasn't filing on Thursday - he was noting trends in Serio's previous cases (why he won, when he won, why he lost, when he lost, etc.). Lots of writing, lots of busywork, lots of time to complete just so he could keep an attentive eye on the secretary.

He found himself frequently neglecting his trend job in order to observe her, the strange secretary, who looked different today.

She looked peppy, excited, content, humming to herself a cheerful tune. When Natsume got a cup of water from the cooler, he caught himself redhanded humming the same stupid tune. No, goddamnit.

Then he realized why she was different, as she sat at her desk, swaying slightly in her swivel chair. She was wearing a dark, deep, blood-red blouse and a tight fitting black pencil skirt. Her tights were translucent black and she had traded in her mary janes for short heels. Her hair was in a neat bun. She looked different and Natsume decided that she looked . . . OK. She looked OK. A bit better than usual.

Natsume was still feeling guilty about the panties incident but he found himself calling her "Polka-dots" because his mouth couldn't find any way to form her real name. Today, though, the secretary didn't seem to mind, smiling or frowning teasingly when he called her by Tuesday's underwear pattern. It didn't seem to matter, honestly, because Natsume just wanted to talk to her.

Natsume had gone to the staff room hungry, hoping to find some abandoned food. He was relieved to find that there was indeed a box of uneaten sushi labeled under "Yuka" in the fridge. The rich scent began intoxicating him and he told himself to start packing a lunch. And maybe to eat breakfast in the morning.

He returned to his desk almost in a good mood, eager to tear off the wrapping and eat already.

"Yeah! He seems so mysterious!" It was the secretary, chatting on her phone, trying to be as quiet as possible as she gossipped. At first, Natsume was certain she was talking about him, but then, "I'm excited to finally meet him tonight!"

The weird alien . . . fuzziness that Natsume had been feeling earlier withered and suddenly he wasn't so hungry. What was going on with him?

The secretary saw him retake his seat at his desk to continue his tedious note-taking, avoiding any glance at the sushi since he was certain he'd start feeling sick. She rushed the conversation to a close. "I have to go!" she whispered shrilly. "See you later!"

He ran his pen along the paper in little scribbles, just so he could look like he was writing. It helped that his negativity subsided slightly with the nonsensical strikes of the pen.

"Natsume!" the secretary hissed. "Intern!"

Natsume looked up at her, his eyes narrowed with bitterness that he couldn't place. Her face was slightly made up now and she looked . . . well, she looked OK.

She crawled over to his desk and leaned her head on her hands as she gazed up at him. "Guess what I'm doing tonight?"

Probably going to go on a date with some pig who'll jump at any opportunity to take advantage of you, thought Natsume as a veil of anger covered his brain from rational thinking.

When he didn't guess, she answered herself, "I'm going on a blind date!"

Natsume looked at her. Her eyes were a warm brown, sparkling and glowing, as if radiating chocolate heat in heart-shaped waves.

"Idiots like you shouldn't go on dates," he muttered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice dripping in frustrated confusion.

You're too naive and the monsters in this world would love to take advantage of that.

"You're so stupid you'd probably end up getting taken advantage of." NO. That was not what he wanted to say.

"What?!"

Oh no. . . I just meant that you're too innocent to understand evil intentions. "Oh, come on, you know it's true. You probably wouldn't understand when someone is dangerous and then it'll be too late."

"No! My friend said that he would never lay a hand on me!"

Your friend may just be mistaken, you know. . . "Don't trust people that easily. It'll just encourage them."

"You know what?" snapped the secretary, her eyebrows furrowed and her voice very . . .upset. "you're just jealous 'cause you've never even gone on a date!"

"First of all, yes I have," rebutted Natsume smoothly. "Second, I bet the only reason you're excited is because tonight's your first." Why, oh why, was he being so damn nasty?

The secretary straightened to her feet and stomped back to her desk.

Good, Natsume thought. I didn't want to talk to you anyway.

She started typing furiously and Natsume wrinkled up his scribbled paper and started scribbling illegibly again on a new one.

I am definitely getting her fired.

Even the thought of that didn't feel right.


He turned the case notes in to Serio at six. he had to get off a bit earlier so he could make the stupid Ruka thing at 7:30.

It was as usual -Serio liked his work, praising him concisely for doing a good job. Natsume was just about to leave the office to go get ready for the . . .thing. . . when Serio commanded him to stop with the resounding sound of, "Wait a minute."

Natsume turned around, hiding his impatience. What do you want?

"I don't like the road you're headed down. I'd do my best to stray from that path if I were you."

"What?" Natsume asked, a little annoyed. "I mean, excuse me, sir?"

"With Sakura. The secretary. I don't recommend going down that road."

Natsume felt his face get hot. She was right outside! "I don't know what you're ta-"

Serio waved him off like he was swatting a pathetic fly. "Don't give me any of that bullshit. You do remember what your main assignment is, correct?"

How could he not? "Yes, sir."

"I'd make sure not to forget. When I said she was your business now, I wasn't referring to . . ." Serio swirled his finger and pointed outside the door. ". . . whatever that is."

"No, I wasn't - I was just -"

"Sure. And I was joking when I told my grandmother her potato salad smelled like a wet dog pissing on a sweaty sock."

The analogy was repulsive and Natsume was starting to dislike this conversation.

"Do your job, Hyuuga."

"Yes, sir."

And Natsume left, his face still hot, but now composed. Right after he closed the door behind him, he turned to the girl. She was typing into a spreadsheet but he saw the minimized internet browser. Was she playing Neopets on that? On the notepad he occasionally saw her scribbling on (that, on closer inspection, was ornate with pink bears and blue ducks) next to her laptop were the neat words, "BFF + Blind date tonight! Choose cute dress!"

Natsume boiled when he saw the chickenscratch lettering in the corner that he could barely make out - "Don't ever talk to Intern again!"

Ever?!

How could one teensy conversation put her off so much? Of course, he had been unintentionally rude, but never talking again? That was too much!

He slipped his sole, expensive pen into his pants pockets and hummed loudly to himself, mainly to make her notice him.

"I'm leaving now," he said, avoiding any direct eye contact when her face flew up.

"Good," he heard her mumble.

"I hope you enjoy your blind date," he said, purposefully not giving any substance to the statement. I also hope you decide never to talk to him again like you did with me.

"I will!" she said, determined.

Natsume fumed quickly down the hall, probably frothing at the mouth with a wretched type of soft anger he'd never felt before. Having to go on a stupid double date with Ruka, his "girl"friend, and her friend (who couldn't be anything short of freaky) probably wouldn't make things better.

She couldn't "never talk to him again", could she?

He really hoped she couldn't.


Natsume was waiting in their living room so they could just go already (they were meeting their "dates" at the restaurant) but when Ruka finally stepped out of his room, Natsume almost revoked his "fine".

They were going to Red Lobster. Natsume wore a blank T-shirt with a black jacket over it, with dark jeans to boot, since he didn't give a shit and there was no point in dressing up.

It seemed Ruka had different thoughts.

"What the fuck, Ruka?"

Ruka was wearing a tux - a full-on, goddamn navy tux with a lavender flower on his chest to accentuate just how much of a smitten loser he was.

"Fuck no, Ruka."

"What?" Ruka said, looking deflated when he saw Natsume. He ran his hand through his gelled back blond hair. "I told you to get dressed."

"Why do you look like Louis XIV?"

Ruka narrowed his eyes. "Why do you look like a homeless person? At least brush your hair!"

"Let's just go." Natsume got up, gesturing for Ruka to follow. Ruka glanced with distaste and concern at Natsume's untidy hair, but followed quietly.


"When are they getting here?" asked Natsume through gritted teeth.

They had been sitting opposite each other in the booth for a good forty five minutes, with no call or sign from Imai or her friend.

"They'll be here soon," assured Ruka, but his voice was nervous.

This was testing Natsume's patience. "I swear to God if they don't get here in-"

"Hotaru!" Ruka exclaimed, jumping off his seat, looking behind Natsume as his eyes switched immediately from wistful to infatuated. Natsume couldn't help it - he rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Nogi," said Hotaru Imai's bland, unaffected voice. "This is my . . . uh . . . friend." She said the word with so much disdain, Natsume figured the friend must not have been in her right mind to stay friends with her - or perhaps she was just very stupid -

"Best friend!" corrected an all too familiar, enthusiastic voice, answering his doubts.

Natsume spun around and saw his secretary - erm, the secretary - standing by Imai in a pretty pink dress.

She looks better in red, thought Natsume bitterly before shaking his thoughts away with distaste.

Her sparkly eyes met his and her smile fell. "You?!"

Natsume was floating on a cloud of relief, since he didn't have to worry about her date anymore. Not that he'd been worrying.

"I can't believe this!" she shouted.

"Stop being so loud," said Natsume smoothly. "You're causing a scene."

"Goddamnit, Mikan," said Imai, smacking the back of her friend's head. "Sit down and shut up."

Whimpering, Mikan followed Ruka and Imai to the booth. She glared at Natsume when the golden couple piled onto the other side, leaving her to sit with him.

She collapsed onto the seat next to him, her face angry and blotchy.

"You're overreacting," muttered Natsume, flipping through his menu even though he'd already decided what to eat forty five minutes ago.

"You were my blind date all along?" she hissed angrily.

"I didn't know you were mine, either," he bit back.

Natsume, hit with realization, looked up to meet Hotaru Imai's corpse-like violet gaze.

"You. You of all people. You put in a good word for me. You hate me."

Imai shrugged. "She was freaking out. I simply lied to appease her." She turned to his secretary. "As you can tell, he's actually not nice."

"Yeah, thanks for that!" the secretary snapped.

"So . . ." said Ruka, obviously eager to change the subject. Natsume took in his ridiculous get up with a scrutinizing eye. "How do you two know each other?"

"We work together," answered Natsume simply.

Imai snickered in the secretary's direction. "Is this the 'hot intern'?"

"Shut up!" was the response. "Shut your face!" She leaned across the table as her face turned bright red. "I told you that in confidence!"

Natsume was beginning to believe that his stomach was in the process of being stuffed with cotton. "You think I'm hot?" he inquired, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"Not anymore," she hissed.

"Alright, let's take a look at our menus!" said Ruka, anxiously trying to lighten the mood.

"I already decided what to eat," Natsume said, throwing his menu on the table. "Fifty minutes ago."

Imai narrowed her eyes dangerously at her friend. "See what you've done?"

"I wanted to look nice!" defended his secretary.

"You look beautiful," commented Ruka.

God damn suck up.

Mikan blushed. "Why, thank you! See, it was worth it!"

"Look at your menu, Polka-dots," Natsume commanded, nudging her in her elbow.

She glared at him but started flipping through her menu anyway.

She looked . . . OK. Her hair was up, all curly at the tips and it looked oh-so-fluffy, as if Natsume - if he were smaller - could curl up in it and just take a nap in absolute comfort.

Wait . . . what the hell?

What was he thinking?

It must've been Ruka's obnoxious suit - it was really starting to affect him.

He decided to zone back into the conversation taking place while he'd been staring at the secretary (thank God she hadn't noticed).

"-look like my great-grandmother." Imai sounded blunt and merciless. Not even Natsume was that mean about the stupid suit.

"I wore this for you." Ruka's voice was defensive, and almost wobbly, as if he was about to break into tears.

"Is that supposed to be compliment, Nogi? Because, to me, that is one hell of an insult. You look ridiculous."

"Fine!" snapped Ruka as he started unbuttoning his coat. "I'll take it off since everyone hates how I look so much!"

"Jesus H. Christ, Nogi," muttered Imai darkly as she buried her face in her hands.

A glance in the secretary's direction resulted in glimpsing her cherry red face as Ruka pulled off the stupid ugly jacket that was apparently adorned with frills, upon closer inspection.

So, for once that evening, Ruka looked normal (as normal as he could wearing the rest of the disgusting tux) and the secretary did not look "OK".

She looked lovely.