Chapter 4: Requiem for a Dream

"He's modest, clever, and so smart,
He can barely restrain it."

"It's not me who's giving up on me. They're giving up on me."


Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot

Ruka raised his eyebrows at his best friend. Usually, Natsume skates only this wild and lethal if there are problems back at home, and as far as he is concerned, his Natsume went to school with his usual look. Moreover, he was skating in the school parking lot, and that only happens if they want to get noticed. He wondered what could've happened in the last two hours he wasn't with him. Is he sour he missed HH, he questioned himself as he watched the raven-haired slide around in his skateboard, But those stuffs never bother him.

"Doing well, mate?"

Ruka turned towards the voice. Koko came up to him with a wide grin, followed by Mochu. He gestured at Natsume, "He started without me?"

The blonde shrugged in reply and asked when he realized they were only two, "Where's Kitsuneme?"

Mochu sniggered before saying, "Got in a fight with that Cameron in AP Euro after you left. Ended up in the infirmary. Man, that was hot."

"Didn't you two do anything?" Ruka asked without looking; he was still too busy observing Natsume's uncanny actions.

"He was sour. Didn't want to share, the greedy faggot."

"Oi, Natsume!" Koko suddenly called the distant skater with a grin, "Get your arse here!" Ruka slapped his forehead. "What?" Koko asked, utterly confused with the blonde's reaction. Before Ruka can answer, however, Natsume swept past them like thunder and lightning, which made Koko jump in fright and surprise. "The hell?!"

Natsume simply glared. "You called?"

Koko, a bit furious at his lack of reaction for almost giving him a heart attack, hollered at his ear. "You freakin' piece of—!" Ruka immediately closed his mouth while Natsume shot Koko an angry glare. Realizing what he had done, Koko fell on his knees and started to worship the pokerfaced raven-haired. "Forgive me, oh great one!"

"Get out of my way" was Natsume's boorish and unadorned reply. In less than five seconds, he was out of their sight and was on his way home.

Mochu dragged Koko from the ground and asked, "What's with him?"

Ruka shrugged, but he was obviously concerned. "I have no idea, but I bet it's not good."


Sakura Mansion, Dining Room

"So, Mikan dear," a woman in her late thirties cleared her throat as she started slicing her steak, "How was school today?" The brunette immediately shuffled in her seat and dropped her utensils. Yuka looked up, utterly confused, while Youichi continued devouring his meal. "Mikan?" her mother asked again.

"School?" she managed to blurt out, "Arts Academy of the Alice? It was mine— fine! And I got det— determined! I was… inspired, that's it!" She felt her cheeks heat up and instantly went back to her supper. Youichi's spoon was halfway through his mouth, frozen as he heard his sister. Yuka bit back a smile and said,

"Mikan, you're not really good in lying, are you, dear?" The brunette gulped and was about to open her mouth when the door flung open, and two males entered the dining room.

"I'm telling you, Dad, we'll get half of their share."

The other man shook his head, "I'm not sure about that, Tsubasa. That's a big step."

"Oh, come on, do you not trust your only son?" Youichi scoffed and Tsubasa quickly added, "Older son, then."

"After screwing up our client's daughter, I'm having second thoughts."

Tsubasa was silent for a moment before saying, "But you have to say, she has a nice ar—"

"Eat your potatoes, Tsubasa." Yuka interrupted him, "I made them."

"Oh," he replied distractedly, "Sweet. Back to the subject—"

"How was your day, Youichi?"

The youngest and distant child in the room looked up from his food while he chewed on his peas. "Same."

"Did you make new friends?"

"U-huh."

"Really?"

"U-huh."

"What's his name?"

"Aoi."

"Aoi?" his mother asked confusedly, "That's an uncanny name for a boy."

"Mum, the friend's a she." Tsubasa interrupted impatiently, after being cut off earlier.

Resolute to take the attention away from her once and for all, Mikan asked, "How did you know?"

He smirked. "I think I screwed a girl or two in the past named—"

"Too much information!" Mikan screamed. It was a good thing Yuka and Izumi were both busy trying to make Youichi talk more. She turned once again to her matchless meal: boiled broccolis and asparagus. Her eyes wandered hungrily on the strawberry trifle Tsubasa was more than willing to eat; his eyes glinting towards Mikan in every gulp. She rolled her eyes, Really, she thought, Tsubasa is such a moron. She reluctantly turned back to her greens.

"Oi, Mikan," she raised her head grudgingly to face her— sadly— older brother. "Got some new DVDs up in my room."

She frowned. "If they're videos of you screwing someone—"

"Nah," Tsubasa sniggered at her muse and winked, "But I wish it bloody hell is, if you know what I mean."

"Whatever Tsubasa," she rolled her eyes and finished the last of her vegetables. She dabbed her lips with the pallid table napkin and pushed her chair back. "I'm done." Hearing her, Tsubasa immediately swallowed his food and excused himself, too. Mikan rolled her eyes once again; her brother won't leave her until she joins him. She swung the door and headed for the stairs, only to be stopped by Tsubasa's grinning face and toned brawny arms.

"You're not going anywhere, dearie." He said in a mocking singsong voice that greatly reminded her of Narumi. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to his room, ignoring her "Tsubasa Andou Sakura, put me down this instant!"


Hyuuga Residence

Natsume flipped the patties as Aoi continued on her story of the night. "…was unbe-bloody-lievable! His hair's silver, like mine, and he has these weird green eyes that looks a lot like yours!"

He raised his eyebrows. "My eyes aren't green. Did you not learn anything at all in kindergarten?"

Aoi rolled her eyes and started swinging her feet as she sat on the counter. "No, dumbass, I mean your expressions. He's a serious spitting image of a god."

"Which, then, makes me a god, right?" he smirked, earning a kick on the stomach. "Rude brat." He muttered. Aoi just innocently blinked in reply as he placed a patty each in the two buns. He shoved one of the burgers towards his sister, who whined,

"I want fries!"

"Don't be picky, crybaby." Natsume muttered, "that's all we got."

"Where's my fries?" she frowned looking outright baffled. "I bought them yesterday."

"Where else?" was her brother's sore reply, "In that goddamn room of his." He noticed on the verge of tears. After heaving a sigh to himself, he opened his arms to welcome his sister's embrace.

"I don't want this life anymore," her voice was muffled since her face was buried on his brother's shirt; "I don't want it."

"Everything's going to be fine, Aoi," Natsume mumbled as he ran a hand through her hair. Aoi continued sobbing quietly, and the burgers were left forgotten.


Sakura Mansion, Tsubasa's Room

"Die, die, die!" the kid in the show hollered. Mikan closed her eyes as Willy Wonka's chocolates spurred her mind. From behind her, Tsubasa guffawed at his stepsister: stuck in a chair, a rope around her hands, her feet, and her and the wood. It was a load of work and a lot of sweat just to make her sit down, but he knew it'll be all worth it.

"Tempting." Tsubasa commented wickedly as various Wonka chocolates swarmed on his 108-inch LCD TV. "Wait, are those almonds? Damn, I have to get one of those!" He sneaked a glance towards Mikan, who kept shaking her head and muttering, "I have a recital, I have a recital, I have a recital…" He rolled his eyes. How very stumpy Mikan is, he thought.

"Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka," the Oompa-Loompas sang, "The Amazing Chocolatier! Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, Everybody Give a Cheer!" Soon, Tsubasa joined in singing, which annoyed Mikan more.

"He's modest, clever, and so smart,
He can barely restrain it.
With so much generosity,
There is no way to contain it..."

"Please," Mikan begged, "No more! I'll be a good girl, I swear! I'll… I'll ask for Natsume's forgiveness! Please, enough!"`

Tsubasa, after hearing her little speech, pressed the 'Pause' button on the remote control and raised his eyes at Mikan. "Who's Natsume?

Mikan blushed and muttered, "Nobody."

"I don't think it was a 'Nobody'" he commented as he jumped off his bed and went closer to Mikan to whisper on her ear, "Is 'Natsume' your boyfriend?"

"B— Boyfriend?" She stuttered needlessly. "N—No, he— he's— well, I— you see— oh for the love of— Ah whatever!"

Tsubasa grinned triumphantly. "So who is he, exactly?"

"He's, well," Mikan thought for a moment and smiled; the very last thing she felt like doing earlier. "He's the king of the club."


Hyuuga Residence, Rooftop

He stared at the sky and eventually closed his eyes. He feels like shit, truth be told. His family's screwed and a 'friend' described him as a bad-ass street dancer. Some friend, he snorted.

"What'd'ya think y'all doin'?! Ya think I do that for a livin'? Go to hell, then, you son of a bitch!"

"What do you care? You don't give a damn about us even! What do you want us to do? Sell our bodies? Because I'd rather go to hell, then. Yeah, I'm a son of a bitch, but in case you forgot, you're the one who screwed the bitch."

"Talkin' back now, aren't we, boy? Learned to harden those tiny raisins"

"For the love of god, can you please just shut up for a second?! Do you think I want to be here? Hell, I'll go anywhere as long as I'm with Aoi and away from asshole drunkards like you!"

"And ya think I want to have ya as a son? If I'd've my way, I'd've y'all daughters!"

"Fuck off, you maniac. You can't lay a finger on Aoi. God, that's incest!"

"Who says I wanna piece o' that filth? That grime is the spitting image of her mother."

"Your wife."

"What wife? We never married. Leaves me free; a good thing, ain't?"

"I'd rather if you died than Mum."

"Ya wanna know something, boy? Ya can't skate for your life. Ya can't even dance, if you call those crazy movements dancing. Ya think you have the guts, but ya don't, really. Arse you are."

"You know what, old man? I do something to make Aoi's life easier. Fuck, I don't give a damn about my future, and all I effin' want is for her to live."

"Yada, yada, yada, go fuck yourself. You're a bad-arse street dancer, now go shake 'em all fo' me, why don't you?"

"I would never do something for you."

He grimaced ruefully and sardonically. A bad-arse street dancer, eh? From his back pocket, he took a small plastic of white powder and started snorting.


Sakura Mansion, Tsubasa's Room

"What a load of waffle" was Tsubasa's comment after Mikan retold what happened earlier. She wanted to knock the living lucidness off him.

"You know," Mikan said, her eye twitching, "It's proper manners to say something reasonable and uncouth when someone shares a morsel of their life to you."

"Ah, well," Tsubasa rubbed his chin, "The guy must miss his parents."

"The guy doesn't even like his parents. I mentioned that six times— that is, if you were listening, which, I believe, you weren't."

"Oi, don't get mad at me!" he raised his hands in defeat, "I'm just someone, alright?

"Oh, and by the way, Tsubasa," Mikan struggled once to loosen the ropes, but made no progress. "Get me the bloody hell out of here." He smirked.

"When I come back." He immediately closed the door behind him; Mikan heard his thunderous booming laugh trailing off. She silently cursed. She loves Tsubasa, even though he's just her step brother. Heck, everyone loves Tsubasa— and Yuka's no exception. She loved and cared for the guy like her true son.

But right at this moment, Mikan wished she had never accepted Tsubasa in the first place.


Alice Academy of the Arts, Hallway

Mikan brushed some of her hair on her face and pouted. She checked the time and continued to frown as she tapped her shoes rather impatiently. She had tied her hair up in a messy bun today and allowed some strands to fall down behind her back. People who passed by would either wave or smile, and she would return them with a winsome beam. She once again glanced at her watch clasped on her wrist and clicked her tongue.

"Hello, Mikan," a sweet voice greeted her. She turned towards the speaker, and found out it was Anna. Her light rosy hair flowed down, held together by frilly bands. Mikan greeted her friend and went back to her mission. "What's cracking?"

"Have you, by any chance, have seen Natsume at all?" Mikan asked, earning a gasp from her friend. She raised her eyebrows and asked, "What?"

"Why are you asking about him?" Anna asked in a very low tone. Clueless, she replied in the same manner,

"Just something. And why are we whispering?"

"Whoa, Mikan, why are you looking for that criminal?"

She rolled her eyes at Anna. "He's not a criminal, Anna; he's a typical skater-slash-break dancer. Where did you get the idea anyways?"

"What?" she raised her hands, "I saw movies like these all the time. And mind you, the deadpan baggy-clothes-wearing people are usually the evil ones. What's more," she moved closer to whisper on Mikan's ear, "I heard he has a pretty nasty criminal record and is in the run."

"You have got to be kidding me," Mikan shook her head at her friend's incredulity of thoughts, "If Natsume is in the run— and I bet you he is not— he won't even be here in the first place."

"What if the one who enrolled him paid for his debts?" Anna challenged her. She didn't realize how very witty Anna can be when she's pushy. "You never know, Mikan."

"Look, Natsume's a jerk, he can be an arse but— What?" she noticed Anna's eyes widen and travel behind her back. Feeling someone behind, Mikan gulped and turned; only to be magnetized by a pair of conspicuous crimson orbs. "N— Nat— sume."

She noticed him glare at her hard before saying, "So I'm an arse now, eh?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that, I mean—"

"You don't need to explain, Barbie," she flinched at the use of her arguable pet name, "I'm off. Have fun without the arse."

"By golly, Mikan," Anna exclaimed, "You have a thing for rude men, don't you?"

"Shut up."


Alice Academy of the Arts, French VI Class

Mikan sighed in frustration as she dumped her bag on an empty chair. She then buried her face on her hands and groaned. How can I be such an arsehole, she thought angrily, Oh Mikan, you are so hopeless!

"Wagwan, all!" Koko's cheerful voice came as he entered the class. Mikan groaned; today really isn't her day. The honey-colored-haired spotted her from across the room and immediately dropped down on the seat next to her. "What's cracking, Barbie?"

"Crunch," she uttered quietly without glancing at him, "Do you mind if you sit somewhere else? I'm expecting someone to occupy the seat next to me, you see."

Koko laughed. "Didn't know you have the hots for me, sweet." He winked, which made Mikan sick. He gestured behind him. "You see, this is the only empty chair around."

Mikan groaned as he chuckled wickedly. "Hell."


Alice Academy of the Arts, AP Euro Class

Sumire stared at the godly figure that made his way to an empty desk around the back. Girls swooned over him while the guys gazed at him with a mixture of trepidation and covetousness. He remained blank, however, and placed his feet on the table after sitting down, his skateboard on the floor beneath his seemingly empty knapsack. He leaned backwards and put his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and ignored the attention he was currently getting. Sumire had no idea why the rest of her friends think that Natsume Hyuuga isn't an Adonis in the flesh.

"Mr. Hyuuga, please put your feet down," Ms. Serina Yamada, a serene-looking twenty-nine-years-old Aquarius entered the room in her usual lilac medieval French frock. She brought her things to the table infront and faced the class with a composed face. "Mr. Hyuuga, I repeat, kindly put your feet off your desk." Obviously annoyed, Natsume grumbled and closed his eyes once more. Ms. Serina seemed to understand his worse-than-usual attitude and set the matter aside, though she's still planning to take an aspirin after. "Now, we start."


Alice Academy of the Arts, French VI Class

"Translations today, chacun," Mr. Narumi exclaimed as he adjusted his cravat. "Now, amour, anyone?" Everyone knew it was an easy question to answer, meaning no one bothered to raise their hands, except…

"You mean armor? I got lots of those in—"

"Not armor, you idiot," Mikan hissed, "It's amour. Love."

"Love? I knew that." He raised another eager hand and jumped up without being addressed, "So, is that Koko armor Koko?"

"I've told you," Mikan sighed exasperatedly, "it's amour! A-M-O-U—"

"Yawn," Koko said as he closed both of his eyes, opening the right to peek at Mikan. "I won't talk to Del Mak sayin', 'Koko armor Del!'" he snorted, ignoring his seatmate's protests in saying the wrong word once again, "I'm dancing my arse off the floor, got it?"

Mikan sighed and rubber her temples. "Whatever you say, Crunch."


Alice Academy of the Arts, AP Euro Class

"…focus on entity rights, nonetheless, was by no means the mere voice of the Enlightenment in relation to the social pact." Ms. Serina wordlessly glanced around the class and continued reading from her book. "The political philosophy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau likewise dealt with the starting point of a just form of regime and the civil liberties surrounded by that supreme state.

"Hence, the government— Mr. Hyuuga, just what are you doing?" From behind the room, Natsume lifted the textbook from his face and yawned loudly. "May I remind you that we are in class, not back at home in your room?" Natsume snorted loudly and waved a careless hand towards her direction.

Sumire's eyes widened; how can someone be so… valiant towards the teachers? No one, as far as she knows, even dares to talk back to any of the Academy's faculty staff unless they want a suspension or immediate expulsion. Then again, she added to herself, from what she'd heard, they're just their thing.

Just then, the school bell rang, signifying the end of first period. The whole class gathered their things and headed for the door. "Not you, Mr. Hyuuga." came the teacher's voice. Sumire picked up her things gradually as possible and headed out to close the door. She leaned on the door and peeked inside, seeing the bored Natsume standing infront of Ms. Serina's desk.

"Mr. Hyuuga," she started, "We gave your guardian our word that we'd try and help you but I'll be honest, you're making it awfully difficult."

"He's not my guardian." Sumire heard Natsume mutter.

Ms. Serina sighed. "I am well aware of that, Mr. Hyuuga. But you are cleverer and better than this, Natsume. Give yourself a chance and don't give up on yourself."

"It's not me who's giving up on me," he explained in an unnatural tone, "They're giving up on me."

"I don't know much about your life back home, Natsume, but don't let them get into you. You're smart and good; behind your wisecracks, I know you are."

When she heard the sound of rolling wheels, Sumire dashed away of the door's direction.


Alice Academy of the Arts, Biology Class

"Elective?"

Nonoko nodded at Mikan, who was, luckily, taking Biology with her. "Remember? We get to choose our electives this year."

"Glad the protests reached Mr. N's mind, then." Mikan mumbled, and then went back to her friend. "So what are we taking this year?"

"Sadly, C-Majors won't get to choose."

"Ha, ha," Mikan rolled her eyes, "Where's the punch line?"

"I am serious, Mikan," Nonoko urged, "Our names were all written down the applications!"

"Yeah, right," the brunette just laughed. "It's not like we'll end up in the Theater." When Nonoko simply looked at her, Mikan stood up. "You mean—?"

"Yes."

"Because of—?"

"Yep."

Mikan stopped talking for a moment. "We're screwed, aren't we?"

"More than screwed."


Alice Academy of the Arts, Theater Class

"Welcome to your elective, Alices."

"We didn't actually elect this class, to be frank," Sumire said out loud, "Our adviser signed us without our knowing. They may as well declare everyday as a mix club event."

"Miss Shouda," the lady infront cleared her throat, "As much as I want to hear how you exactly ended up in this class, I'm afraid I lack the time and the desire to listen, now if you don't mind me telling you to shut your mouth, with all pleasantries, please do."

There was a moment's silence before Koko, who was seated around the back, laughed. "Oh, shut up." Sumire muttered.

"Back to me, people," the lady pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear, "Welcome to your chosen elective, the theater class. I understand that some of you do not want to be in this class," she shot Sumire a look under her rounded spectacles, "but I treat everyone fairly and will not hold it unto you.

"Now, this December, the Theater Class will perform a play with the Christmas theme. Auditions for the parts will be held starting today to tomorrow only. That is to assure how much you want the part and how desperate you are to hold on to spikes, and, of course, to avoid any kind of cheating, including lip syncing.

"This year, Mister Narumi, who will be helping me in the management of this very important musical, decided that the play shall be Papa Panov. Now, is anyone familiar with the title? Class? Anyone at all? None? I guess this is going to be harder than I thought…"

"This is nuts," Sumire whispered hoarsely at Mikan, "No one will go to the stupid play. And do they expect us to sing? Please say no."

"Deary," Mikan replied, "It's a musical. What else do you expect? But they're reasonable enough to hold auditions. Things would've been harder."

"You ladies behind, please stand up." Mikan and Sumire, startled by the sudden call, immediately stood up as a reflex. The lady approached them, her brows arched. "I reckon you've never been to any of my classes before, have you?"

"No, Madame." They both replied; Hotaru, Nonoko and Anna simply stared. They were either too scared to do anything or they already know what's going to happen next.

"First of all," she cleared her throat, "I am Miss Jacqueline. I am not Mistress Jacqueline, I am not Madame Jacqueline, and neither am I Missus Jack. I am Miss Jacqueline, and you are not allowed to use your phones in my class, Mister Fashionably Late."

Natsume looked up when he felt someone's eye on him and yawned. "Pardon me, Miss, but I had no idea."

"Well then, now that you know, may you please keep your phone in a place where I can't see them?" Beside him, Koko and Kitsuneme snickered while Mochu demonstrated what they were thinking, since his phone was exposed to the outside world, too.

Sumire rolled her eyes. "How imbecile."

"I am now advising you to leave your afternoons free, since we shall be busy with the play." Miss Jacqueline cleared her throat, interrupting the possible brawl that might occur. "The musical is a very important play, which is also the reason why C-Majors ended here."

"What?"

"You mean this is all fucking planned?"

"For the love of—"

"Ahem, ahem," the teacher fake coughed, attracting the rest's attention. "The C-Majors are professionals, as we all know, and Alice Academy of the Arts looks at them very, very highly. Expectations are sky-scraping in this class."

"Cut to the chase, will you?" Mochu said loudly, causing Miss Jacqueline to glare at him for a moment.

"The C-Majors will perform a recital, and—"

"Excuse me?" Mikan said out loud. "I beg your pardon, Miss Jacqueline, but don't you think a recital is a bit… un-Christmas-ly?"

She raised her eyebrows at the brunette. "I'm afraid I'm the one in charge here, Miss Sakura, and I advise you to not interrupt me again."

"But—"

"Detention, Miss Sakura."

"Oh great." Mikan grumbled. She buried her face on her hands. "Two days of no ballet. Great. Absolutely wonderful."


Alice Academy of the Arts, Detention Room

"Not my bloody fault," Mikan grumbled, "Now I have four recitals and a competition to cram about. Just… augh!"

The door behind her quietly opened, but then slammed. "Oh, great." Mikan turned to the speaker, and her eyes met Natsume's. "Just what I need. Hey, Barbie."

"It's Mikan." She said bitterly, forgetting that she was at fault. "Why are you even here anyways?"

"I don't need to tell you everything, do I? It's a free world. Everyone gets detention."

"And it just so happens that you got detention the day I got detention."

He inquired a brow. "If you think I'm stalking you—"

"I never said you did!" she quickly preserved herself, "I'm just—"

"Tut, tut," he threw himself to an empty chair three rows behind her, "Quite defensive, aren't you?"

"I never know with you," she replied, and turned her back on him. She fiddled with her phone, and she realized the sickening silence engulfing her. Apologize, her conscience was telling her, Do it. "Natsume."

The raven-haired at the back growled. "Hn."

I'll take that as a 'What?', she thought, and voiced out loud, "I'm sorry about yesterday and this morning."

"Hn."

"You didn't let me finish, and you didn't even hear me out! Let's face it; it's your fault, too."

Right, drag me into this, Barbie. "Hn."

"But I'm willing to take all the faults. It's my stupid, flipping, mouth disease attacking at that time."

Oblivious twat. "Hn."

"… and I don't— is that a prison roll?"

Natsume raised his eyebrows and took out a lighter from his pocket. "A+ for you, Barbie."

Mikan was silent for a few seconds. "You do know that's prohibited, don't you?"

"So what?" His voice was muffled as he coughed out smoke.

"Those are the rules."

He shrugged. "Rules are meant to be broken."

Noticing his lack of interest and his deficiency in actually talking to her, Mikan said, "I'm sorry."

"Forget it."

"Natsume—"

"Forget it, alright? Don't expect an apology from me, Barbie. That's not me."

Mikan smiled. "You're such a modest person, aren't you, Natsume?"

He shrugged. "I thought I'm cocky?"

She laughed. "And clever." Her eyes then landed on his rucksack. What more does that bag hold?