A Paper and String

"Love was a story that couldn't compare..."
- Mayday Parade

FOUR

There were always two sides of stories.

My example would be when George from Grey's Anatomy, exploded when his two brothers were asking him to pick a car, Thanksgiving Day. That morning, he was taken by his father and two brothers to go hunt for a turkey. He was able to shoot one, despite his brother's taunts that he wouldn't be able to pull it off. While celebrating after that, one of his brothers accidentally shot their dad's behind, leading them to go to the hospital and have George take a look at it. So what happened was, George, who couldn't stand being called "Georgie" and being bullied by his brothers, flew into a rage and told every car and everything his brothers have talked about since before. His brothers left after. That was George defending himself that they shouldn't be calling him "Georgie" and that it wasn't about him not knowing anything about cars, he's just too tired hearing the same thing over and over again and that he's a doctor and he did things.

The other side of the story was when Mr. O'Malley, George's father, explained to him that he had hurt his brothers, that they weren't bullying or insulting him. His father said that while one of his brothers worked at a postal and the one I couldn't remember, George was there, being great and being someone they couldn't reach to. George, compared to his brothers, was intelligent and had skills that made him an individual different from his family. He told him that his brothers' redundant questions were their way to reach out to him. He said that while George was thinking that his brothers were tormenting him with nonsensical questions, his brothers and his father were just trying to call out to him. This was the side of the story that his brothers' repetitive and tiresome interrogations about cars weren't at all, meant to do him harm, but their own small way of reaching out and getting a small portion of their George's attention.

Ever since then, after I saw that episode and swore to myself that I'd always listen and weigh the two sides of every story, I practiced being open minded and always putting forth my reasons. But sometimes, we didn't mean to violate some rules we had set up.

So when I found Natsume standing before me under that overcast sky and humid weather, with a faintly red left cheek and expression I couldn't really fathom how he could pull off, I immediately stood up and placed my arms around him. We weren't supposed to be friends in school—because I didn't want him to commit a social suicide—but I didn't think that following that rule in a time like this was necessary.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," I said in a very concerned tone. Natsume didn't say or move or anything, he just breathed above my right shoulder. To be honest, I didn't know what to say other than that. Here was my newly made friend, dumped by the girl he liked most, and he's not the outspoken type. Enlighten me? "I'm very, very sorry."

We stayed in that position for almost five minutes—I couldn't really tell—and each time he exhaled an air of negativity that if only it had a color, it could be seen clouding around us, I tightened my arms around him, feeling that he would fall to the ground and he'd just slip away.

"If there's anything . . ." When I heard Natsume gritting his teeth and felt his arms stiffening, I didn't know how to continue. He was mad and heartbroken and enraged. I cupped both of his cheeks and made him face me.

"Natsume, look at me," his eyes were still avoiding mine, but I persuaded. "Look, Hotaru was stupid. She let you go, not even thinking anything straight and even giving you that big red mark. I know you had your heart freshly cut into smithereens, but spare me some dignity and let me help you. You're my friend and I just knew you, so if there's any kind of therapy that works on you, let's go do that."

Calling Hotaru stupid for dumping Natsume was the only side of the story I was going to listen to. She had hurt my friend and publicly humiliated him for her own sick enjoyment. I believed there aren't any grounds for listening to whatever kind of drama—if she had—she would later on use in order to justify her bitchy acts.

I was there in the cafeteria, deserted from the rest of the students, when everybody heard someone shouted. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK ARE YOU DOING HYUUGA?" It was Hotaru Imai. She was clutching her arm and just before it, Natsume's hand was hanged in the air. The thing was, Hotaru never raised her voice and if there was one person she would call by name, it was Natsume. Never have I heard her speak louder than the volume she always used, because she didn't need to. There was no need to exert more effort because everyone listened whenever she spoke. So a fake illusion was created. But it was different this time; she had to shout at Natsume. Because they were both stubborn. Even if Natsume heard her, he wouldn't listen. Because I just knew that whatever reason Natsume had, he was making sense.

Natsume lowered his hand to his side and clenched his fists. It was like the rest of the student body was watching a TV drama. "You have to stop . . ."

—SLAP!

In a blink, Hotaru's labour-unsoiled palm and fingers came across Natsume's left cheek, leaving everyone of us gaping at the scene. A conspicuous red mark of her hand slowly began to appear on his cheek.

"You don't own me, so don't order me around." Hotaru's cold voice sent a shiver in everyone's body, including me. We all felt the same, but I knew that what Natsume felt was nowhere near what we had. I couldn't watch this anymore, so I left the cafeteria, knowing that my presence wouldn't really affect the scene.

I didn't know how Natsume found me or this place, but it made me feel a bit better that he came to me. Because I knew the Natsume that none of his so-called friends in this school knew.

As he stared at me, I could see his eyes slowly coming back to life. In relief, I was about to remove my hands from his face when he placed his hands against on each and kept my hands on his cheeks. Dubiously, I arched a brow at him. "Hmm?"

"Let's go for a drive tonight," said Natsume who seemed to have let out all the exhaustion inside him.

"Huh?"

"The therapy," he breathed tiredly, "I want to drive."

"Oh, I see. Yeah," I nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I feel like zooming against the wind tonight!"

The engine hummed peacefully until it stopped. Tsubasa was sitting on the couch, reading a sports magazine. "What time will you be home?" He didn't look up when he asked. Clearly, his attention was divided between me and whatever article or photo he was keenly looking at.

I removed myself from the window and rushed to Tsubasa, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm wearing this super cardigan you gave me. I'll be fine," I said, clutching the buttoned turqoiuse cardigan that reached to my thighs that Tsubasa got me last Monday.

He finally raised his head and looked at me warily, his blue eyes not wavering. He didn't say anything, though.

"Look," heaving a sigh, I took the magazine he was reading, mindful enough to put my finger on the page he was currently at, and sat on the center table facing him. "I can—will take care of myself. Don't worry about me too much."

Tsubasa took my free hand and placed his palm against mine. "Mikan, you're my sister. I cannot . . . God, just promise me you'll be home before 12 or I will—" he stopped his sentence and a deeper frown made its way on his face.

"Got that. Before 11, I'll be back. OK, I'm going now. Bye." I gave him his magazine back and went to the door. "Tsubasa, please remember to lock the door."

Outside our house, I met Natsume, who was coolly leaning his back on his car, and we quickly loaded ourselves in his car. It took us about ten minutes to reach our first destination.

"What do you want?" He asked me, his eyes glancing up and down at the brightly lit menu stand outside the drive thru of McDonalds.

"Umm, I . . ."

While his right arm was gripping his steering wheel and his other hand sitting languidly on the window sill, he flicked his eyes towards me from the menu. The light from the outside reflected on his eyes. "What?"

Pushing my bangs to the side, I tried circumventing his eyes and held on to my seatbelt. "Promise me you won't laugh at me or anything close to that, Natsume."

There was a nod from him, then a complete silence, and then me telling him, "I rarely ate fast food chain meals. My grandma, you see, wasn't particularly fond of having me eat what she called—untrue foods."

"Oh. And by rare you mean?"

"How many times?" he nodded. "My fingers are enough to count them. So, uh, will you just order for me?"

The right corner of his lips tipped up and he nodded twice. There have been a lot of nodding, I noticed. He slowly drove to the first window of the drive thru cashier and flashed a superior grin at me, before informing the girl of our orders. I watched not too conspicuously as Natsume did the talking, and the girl inside the booth meticulously wrote his orders on her white pad of paper, while trying not to be so obvious of checking out Natsume. Okay, so she was trying to be apparent of it—with all the flirty smiles and purposefully leaning on the window to have a better look at Natsume—not until I titled my head to look at the inside of the booth and way past to the inside of the place, and she saw me, her eyes widening for about two seconds and then shrunk to their normal size.

When they finished, he drove to the next window and waited for our order.

"She was—,"

He finished my sentence, "–flirting with me."

Our order finally arrived and Natsume paid for it. "I'm guessing you ordered fries," I scrunched my nose at the strong smell of hot cheese fries that easily invaded Natsume's car. "I'm sorry, Natsume, can we open the windows?" I was feeling a little nauseous with the smell and all.

"Yeah," he pushed a button and the windows pulled themselves in. We were back on the road then, specifically not knowing where to go.

"We'll just drive around the city?" I asked; opening the brown paper bag where the coke drinks were in. I took mine and handed Natsume his. He waved his hand, so I placed his drink in the holder placed in between us.

"We'll drive around the city," he repeated. "I guess let's just find a parking lot and eat there." He reached to take some fries, which I handed him to make it easier.

"Let's just drive for a while," I suggested. Placing my elbow and forearm on the windowsill just like how Natsume did it before, my eyes feasted on the people walking by on the streets and the stores of different sorts inviting anyone who would want to take a look at what they offered. I could see couples and loners and group of friends either chatting, and laughing lively, or just quiet, as if there weren't any other people around them. The darker face of Tokyo revealed itself to me as I stayed watching everyone and anyone longer. Few trees stood strong on some places and these trees were probably saved from cutting because they were needed for an indigenous cosmopolitan decoration. I didn't know. There were anime shops, restaurants adored by its patrons and restaurants without patrons at all, boutiques with bald and wigged mannequins, bars and clubs, and everything Tokyo could offer.

I retracted myself from these things when the car halted. "Red light," said Natsume.

"Oh. Natsume, if you don't mind, can we go to a little less populated area?"

Natsume took this chance to drink his cola. "I'll come up with something."

"OK, thanks." About two cars in front of us, the green light above blinked. All other cars following our direction began packing the road again, lights and honks hovering everywhere. While, Natsume drove smoothly past the lanes, avoiding contact with nearing cars, and moving on its own pace that neither was too fast nor too slow. The tall buildings came into our view and I could finely say that there's a slight change in the air in here. Adults, wearing their corporate attires, from work emerged from the entrance and exit doors of their workplace. Their tired faces were washed away quickly as they compelled their wobbly legs and stiff backs away from their jobs and careers. They were just happy to get out.

I didn't know how long we were touring around the city. Natsume, then, turned to the left and exited the main road. There weren't many cars in this area, compared to where we were before. I noticed the wind got colder, as if we were entering a different world, as he drove straight and proceeded to a smaller road. Trees beside the road sprouted one by one, clouding the scene, especially on our right, with their dense heads—I could hardly define the color green as they blended perfectly with the evening. About five minutes have passed, the line of trees in our left started thinning and the smell of the air became different. The sound from afar was low, but I knew what it was.

Natsume decided to increase our speed, and the wind blew harder as the car drove its way against the force of the wind. We were alone in this part of the country and it felt great to be the only people experiencing this moment right now. The silver railing on our left was cut and when I took a closer look, under the clear sky and the fair glow of the moon, the rough thin waves of the sea benignly caressed the shoreline. The waves crashed in a melodious tempo and their sound got louder and louder as we drove closer to them. The beach widened at some point and it was that area when Natsume veered to the left and parked the car not far from the road and approximately four meters away from the sea.

"This is beautiful," I said when we exited his car. I removed my sandals and held them, while my feet enjoyed the smooth feeling of the sand under us. Natsume, on the other hand, brought our food and a square, black mat.

In between us, the mat with our food lay on the sand perfectly still. I picked up a fistful of sand and watched them closely falling from my hand. The truth was I was nervous.

"Do you want to talk about it? Natsume?"

He crushed his plastic cup and threw it on the mat. His crimson eyes glistened as his eyes shot up to the moon. "You can ask. But I'm a guy, so don't expect."

His jaw clenched. Deep down, I knew that he was angry. "I'm really sorry . . . about everything. I thought there's nothing standing between you two. I thought it'd go perfectly well."

Natsume scoffed and bent his knees like they were mountains. "She's a selfish woman. She won't hesitate to get something she wants and that counts for something she thinks unnecessary. Hotaru can discard you from her life, if she wants. And that's the problem, I am not what she wanted," he dug his fingers under the sand. When he found it, he raised his hand and looked a couple of seconds at a shell he found, and then threw it to the sea without doubt. "Actually, I confessed to her last night, but she said—,"

I found myself a peach coloured shell and held on to it tightly, while I uttered what I thought Hotaru would say to Natsume, "You're not in love with me, you have trapped yourself in the notion of my dexterity. You don't know me at all." And I threw my shell back to the sea.

I suddenly felt guilty when a sliver or pain crossed his face. "I shouldn't have—," I apologized, but Natsume was quick to close his emotions. "You scare me sometimes."

"How—!"

"Scary," he flashed a smirk on me, and then added, "but cute."

I didn't know how visible my blush was, but my head grew warm and big when he said that. I quickly turned my head to the opposite side and slapped my face for suddenly flushing at Natsume's words.

"Hey, don't take it to heart."

I turned to him and glared at the surprised with a hint of preventing-himself-to-laugh face, which was actually cute, but I wouldn't actually say in person. "Then who is it who said, 'But I'm a guy, so don't expect', and then ended up saying more than what he thought he would say? Acting all tough huh?" I mimicked his voice and laughed after.

"H-hey!"

"Whatever Natsume," I stuck out my tongue and made silly faces.

"Yeah right, girl who likes being called cute." He crossed his arms and grinned.

"Shut up," I took footwear and walked back to the car.

Natsume called me out as he cleaned up the mat, and then ran after me. Like nothing happened, he draped his arm across my shoulders. "Let's get you home."

On our way home, we talked about a lot of things: the stupid system of our school, animes like Fairy Tail and Beelzebub (he insisted inserting some of his perverted mangas in our conversation), when's the showing of some movies we were waiting for, who sucked better at card games, my surprise humungous, pink bunny stuffed toy present to him for his birthday, my neighbour Mrs. Kawashima and her dog, him having the best freedom anyone would envy, and some other things I forgot. About fifteen minutes away from my house, I told him to play some songs and he did, and I sang to my heart's content. He said, it was a good choice that we opted to close the windows now because if we left them open, the people would certainly light their torches and run after us.

"People don't light their torches because one, they don't have torches, and two, they prefer using flashlights. Well, except in the Olympics."

Natsume snorted, "Jesus! Just stop singing."

"OK," I said, before I stole a glance at him, and then I started singing again. In the end, he didn't have any choice. I confidently thought he was quite glad actually.

I had sung about four songs until he stopped the car when we reached our house.

"Goodnight, Natsume," I got down from his car and smiled.

I was about to enter the gate when Natsume rolled the window down and leaned from his seat. He was rather stiff and his face was a bit ashen. "Thank you, Mikan, for everything."

I stepped back to him and rested both of my arms on the window sill. "Thank me later, so you'll owe me big. Drive safely, Natsume." I ruffled his hair—in which he scrunched his facial features—and this time, moved backward so he could roll the glass up. He nodded at me and waved, then drove away. I waved at the distant shadow of his car.

When I got inside the house, Tsubasa was sitting on the same couch he was at when I left. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and pointed at my wrist watch, "10:52 PM. See?"

Tsubasa stood up and placed his arm around my shoulder, and we both ascended on the stairs. He walked me to my room. "I will thank you every day, whatever you say. I don't want to owe you anything."

I reached up and rested my palms on his shoulders. "It's just how the world goes, Tsubasa-nii. I'm not used to Japanese honorific, but I have to get used to. In the future, in another circumstance, you will have to get used to something else. We don't have any choice. Goodnight." I closed the door after that. I knew I had hurt my brother and this really pained me, but I couldn't do anything else. I wouldn't choose to lie.

A/n: So far, this is my most favorite chapter in this story. Review please? :)