DISCLAIMER: Yeah, yeah. Whatever.
"What the hell?" she yelled, slamming the door closed with force enough to make it rattle in its hinges. She was livid, of course; she dropped her innocent bag rather harshly on the unsuspecting couch and proceeded to the kitchen to get a huge block of chocolate from the cupboard and a pint of ice cream from the refrigerator. She sat down on the poor couch and threw a sharp glare at the boy in front of her. "It isn't supposed to be like this! He was supposed to be ratted off by those stupid fan girls! But no! He just had to turn it out on me! The bloody bastard..."
"What?" the boy said defensively, "I only did what I was asked to do, and that's to escort you back home, or else Imai would have killed me!"
She snorted and took a big bite from the chocolate bar, followed by a full spoon's worth of ice cream. She stared viciously at the wide and shining brown eyes and gave another loud grunt. Reality and understanding dawned upon the young man and his eyes sparkled with consciousness.
"Oh! You mean the disclosure?"
There was silence; no reply, unless you count the rolling of the eyes.
"Man, you eat too much."
She stared at him again but quickly went back to her ice cream.
"Hey!" the boy yelled. "Can't you at least talk to me?"
"Just shut up, Koko."
He merely shrugged his shoulders and went on pestering her again.
"Do you like Natsume?" he asked, his eyes trailed on her face. She scowled and put down her ice cream and picked up the chocolate bar on the coffee table.
"I asked you; all you can do is answer it, you know," he teased. She gave out a resigned sigh, closed her eyes, and said, "No."
He laughed. "Oh, really? It's pretty obvious you know, and I'm quite sure he likes you too; I've never seen him give someone so much attention before. Damn, he even wrote a song for you!"
Her wide hazel eyes flew open and all traces of anger had gone from her irises as she sat up. "What did you say? He wrote a what for me?"
Koko slapped a hand over his mouth, and all the while Mikan heard him say muffled Oh-Craps from behind the plastered palm. She groaned miserably. She lied down in the brown sofa, her long chocolate-blonde hair flowing softly on her face. Koko eyed her meticulously, and she can't help but see that he was gulping too frequently to be normal.
"Koko?" she asked, still lying down, "what's wrong?"
Koko tugged at the collar of his polo shirt while blushing ripe red. This alarmed her, forcing her to come closer to him. He began hyperventilating as she drew even closer, and he literally shuddered when she touched his forehead.
"Koko, you're not sick," said Mikan. "What's wrong?"
Koko looked at her. "Allergy," he stuttered.
She looked content at this answer and left the topic alone. She went back to the sofa and picked up the abandoned ice cream and chocolate and began indulging in its chocolatey goodness, all the while smiling and closing her eyes.
The boy watched her curiously after the little "allergy" session and smiled at the childishness of it all. "You do know that you and Natsume are both acting like cranky two-year-old kids, right? Mind you, you two are really fit for each other, and you could wage a full-blown World War Three."
Before he knew it, a container full of Double Dutch flavored Häagen-Dazs®Ice cream came soaring through the air towards him, followed by a bar of Nestle® Crunch.
A few hours later, Koko had changed into Kitsuneme's clothes and fell asleep on the couch in front of Mikan, who was still livid from his last remark. At two in the afternoon, Koko dozed, his head hanging limply from the arm of the couch; a few minutes later, she fell asleep as well, somewhat deeply.
At five in the afternoon, however, she received a phone call from an unknown number. Flipping her phone open, she answered.
"Hello?" she said with her voice still woozy from being awoken from a deep slumber. She rose from the couch and began brushing her hair with her fingers. Koko stirred but did not wake up and she noted the tiny droplets at the side of his mouth and laughed mildly.
"What are you laughing at, polka?" said the voice from the other line. She froze in her laugh and groaned for the second time that afternoon.
"Why are you groaning? You shouldn't be, judging by the fact that it's you boyfriend who's calling you," he said. She could almost see the smirk on his face. Damn him, she thought miserably.
"What do you want?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest while putting the call on loudspeaker. "Make it fast, Hyuuga."
"Well, aren't we a little rough, now," he snidely replied. "So it's Hyuuga now, huh? What's wrong with a little call from your boyfriend?"
She scowled again and she heard him laugh and she rolled her eyes, lolling her tongue out at him (or rather, at the phone).
"Get ready for tonight," he said.
"Why?"
"We're going out."
"We? Who 's the 'we'?"
"Baka, why do you have so many questions?" he said. The irritation was obvious in his tone. "We, as in you and me. We're going out. As in on a date."
She snorted. "Yeah, right. The answer is obvious, darling. No."
"You have no choice," said Natsume from the other line. He was evidently smirking; it was observable, judging by his arrogant tone.
"Oh yeah?" she retorted. "And why is that?"
He growled. "Too many questions; you have no choice because tonight you'll be meeting a world-famous editor and book reviewer. Perhaps you know about Kazikawa Shino? He's reviewed Highlight by Tiffany Smayer, Parry Otter by Mayday Croowling, and Pink Art by who-knows-who. So in short terms, you have no choice because I'm doing you a huge favor for that blasted novel of yours."
She sat up stiffly in her seat and asked sternly, "Is this a joke, Hyuuga?"
"Do I sound like I'm joking?" he said, voice cold and clearly annoyed. "Get ready, I'll pick you up at seven. Dinner's at seven thirty."
"Yeah, right," she said. And just when she was about to hang up, he said a few more words.
"And I forgot. Wear the dress from our first date."
She hung up the phone, her ears steaming like a train engine.
She looked at her gold wristwatch while she sat in front of the television, waiting for the "blasted raven-haired creep" to come knocking at her door. She was already excited, because aside from the fact that she was given the chance to meet a world-renowned editor and book reviewer, she was also anxious to see what Natsume's reaction would be about what she wore, because instead of the red dress he asked of her, she wore an empire-waist gray-black cocktail dress with blue lining, with her hair down and a simple blue sakura pin stuck to her bangs to keep it from falling down and marring her face. She wore minimal makeup and a cherry-flavored lipstick, her favorite even since when she was young. She was sure he'll be livid once he sees she didn't do as she was told, especially as she wore his most hated color. She smiled at the thought.
Koko, who had been at the kitchen "cleaning" the refrigerator, came out laden with "rubbish" (meaning Potato chips, chocolate cookies, mocha cakes, you get the point) and walked right past Mikan before double-taking and ogling at the young lady, dropping his baggage halfway through the process. His jaw dropped and his gaze was fixed at the oblivious brunette.
When Mikan turned around and found Koko looking at her dazedly, she smiled and gave a light laugh, rolling her eyes in the process. She stood up in front of Koko, gave another wide smile, and closed his mouth. Koko snapped out of his trance and blinked once or twice before registering what had just happened.
"Oh, hi Mikan —" he blinked again and Mikan walked away. "Oh, holy crap! I mean, you're...gorgeous."
Mikan laughed. "Thanks for that, Koko-kun. I'm leaving tonight. Please do take care of this apartment while I'm gone, okay?"
Koko just nodded absentmindedly.
At exactly six forty-seven in the evening, a knock was heard throughout the Sakura Mikan residence.
She stood up from the couch and went to open the door, anticipating the raven hair and cold, dull red eyes. What she didn't expect, though, was for the guy on the other side to ogle at her attire in the exact same way as Koko did, albeit a little less longer.
"Natsume, come in," Mikan said, closing Natsume's mouth as well. She made him sit down on the couch and went to the kitchen to get some drinks.
"Why didn't you wear the red dress?" his cold voice drawled as he shook out of his black jacket. He sat down on the couch and looked to her direction. She shrugged as she brought him a tiny glass of iced tea and answered a short "I didn't want to."
He brushed his lower lip lightly with his thumb and a moments' silence passed, where she was playing with her thumb and he was staring at her with curiosity, eyebrows furrowed. Finally, he spoke.
"How many dresses do you have?"
She looked startled at the sudden question. "Two. Why?"
"Which two? That and the red one?"
"Yes. Why?" she asked, squinting at him suspiciously. He shook his head and said nothing.
And then the silence again.
Although admittedly awkward for a few seconds, she couldn't help but think that this silence was more... accommodating... more comfortable than what she had expected it to be. She would keep sneaking glances at him and notice how good he actually looks, no matter how simple he wears. She also noticed the fact that he had been wearing red accentures to his black suit and felt a pang of guilt for not having followed what he said. It was evident that he did his best efforts, because she herself knew how hard it was to get men's accessories for a black tux, let alone a red one.
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, Natsume accidentally kicked the glass of iced tea towards Mikan's dress, his act followed by a smirk of triumph, which fortunately, Mikan hadn't seen.
"Shit," he said in a great reenactment of surprise, standing up to assist her, "I'm...sorry. I didn't think. I'm—"
The dress was drenched in pineapple juice, and what was worse was that it was all over her dress, not something that can be dried up by a simple hair dryer and covered up with a few sprays of perfume. She looked at him through slanted eyes and stood up to jab a finger into his fierce chest rather hardly, bending her index finger quite more than what it was used to and making her wince with pain, but she kept the pain to herself, nonetheless.
"You did this on purpose, huh? You manipulative freak! You're a stinking cheater!"
He was smiling smugly at her and stood up as well, his six-feet-seven frame towering over her. "Well, tiger," he said, raising an eyebrow at the livid young lady, "go change into a different dress." He motioned his hands into that of someone shooing a cat away.
She stomped her way to the second floor towards her room, and in the process managing to trip over a folded carpet, breaking her blue high heels with so much force, and slipping off the stairs, leaving the laughing raven-haired man behind.
"You filthy cheat!" she said while walking out her front door. She kept ranting about everything while the handsome man beside her just kept closed ears to the yapping of the armalite-mouthed brunette keeping up at his side.
"—you are very manipulative and you — woah. Woah, woah, woah," she said, stopping in her tracks and looking in front of her. Natsume turned around to look at her and smirked immaculately.
"Can't believe what you're seeing, Youjo?" he asked. She shook her head, meaning "no", and went on to admire the beautiful pearl-white limousine parked neatly in front of her. She ran her fingers through its body and spent a lot of minutes examining her ride and would surely have spent a lot more time had Natsume not taken her by the waist and threw her into the car.
They arrived at a restaurant called Le Chanceux, and she couldn't help but think that the restaurant was familiar to her, from somewhere in her past. He was looking at her, wondering what her reaction would be once she remembers about the fateful night that they went here, to this exact restaurant. Knowing her, he knew she was still thinking about how familiar the place looked to her and wouldn't remember it until ten minutes' time. He sneaked another glance at her and saw her eyes widen with realization.
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One.
"Hold on," she said, looking at him accusingly, "this is...no, it can't be...this is...this is the place!"
He simpered and looked at her. "Yeah. So what?"
She looked furious, but thought better of it. Instead, she just crossed her arms and kept a huffy silence between them. Her mind kept wandering towards the place as they entered the mile-long entrance to the elegant restaurant. She herself could not believe it; after five years, she was back here, back to the same place with the same man in the same dress and the same lip gloss. Good thing it wasn't the same bra she was wearing, or else she couldn't endure even a mere five seconds with the man whose memory is as sharp as a dragon tooth.
Halting slowly in front of the restaurant, she was slowly brought to her senses and was surprised when she saw what was waiting outside. Hundreds of cameras, thousands of people, and thousands of guards were all positioned squarely in the restaurant lobby. The reception area alone was huge, and as she could recall, was once said to be as large as a full basketball court. She gulped while inside the car and threw Natsume an anxious gaze. His head was turned towards the people, and when he saw her looking at him with fear in her eyes, he sighed and prepared himself for the roar of the crowd once he stepped out the car.
He opened the door and heaved another sigh. The moment his shoes touched precious ground, the crowd silenced themselves. He came out, walked over to the other side of the limousine, and out came the gorgeous Sakura Mikan. It was hardly enough to say that the people around the hall were astounded by Mikan's appearance; they were downright surprised that she was as beautiful as that, because rumor had it that she had crooked teeth, dry hair, and dull brown eyes. Now they saw that everything was not what it really seemed.
She was dead-on nervous about this endeavor. When she climbed out of the car, she saw all those thousands of faces looking at her with wide round eyes, and suddenly she felt all conscious and looked at herself and her dress. So far, so good, and she really didn't see anything wrong. But she was afraid of all those stares, for never in her life was she observed quite as deeply as this.
She turned to Natsume and asked with a shaking voice, "Do I look alright? I mean, just look at them! Look at how they're looking at me! They — they scare me, Natsume."
He looked at her and grabbed her waist forcefully but gently and calmed her down with his steadfast gaze. With as much sincerity and truthfulness as he could possibly muster, he said three words that made her feel like Jell-O in the face of fire.
"You look beautiful."
And with that statement, they paraded down the long hallway of Le Chanceux with the flashing cameras and the questions dodged easily by Natsume. Mikan was held protectively by him, his arms that were around her waist were firm.
With the help of a few bodyguards, they arrived safely at the top floor of the three-storey restaurant. The moment they were inside the dining area, the doors were closed and she let out a deep sigh. She brushed her fingers through her hair and wiped a bead of sweat over her forehead. When she was about to go to the comfort room, however, she felt arms around her waist still.
"Uh, Natsume," she began awkwardly, "you can let go now."
He did as he was told and she couldn't help but giggle at the faint colorization of his pale cheeks. Before she could move, however, a singularly curious thought came over her. The doors were closed, meaning the entrance of anybody else was strictly forbidden, the place was huge and packed with people, and in front of her, right now, was an annoyed-looking young lady in a beautiful silver evening gown. She had green waist-long ringlets that cascaded down her beautiful shoulders and had wide emerald eyes that flickered with the flame of obvious infuriation. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her feet were tapping impatiently on the red carpeted floor of the restaurant. Her hazel eyes clashed with the green ones and from where she stood, felt the intimidating aura coming out in waves.
"You're Sakura Mikan," the green-haired began.
She swallowed before replying a cordial yes.
"So," she said, circling around Mikan, her eyes scrutinizing her very appearance. It seemed as if a predator was cornering her prey. "You look acceptable."
She breathed a sigh of relief and the green-haired immediately turned her attention towards her face instead.
"Nee-chan! Stop criticizing her!" came a loud, shrill yell from a young girl who looked about twelve years. Mikan's eyes snapped towards her, every bit of gratitude traced in them.
The girl had long black hair and navy-blue eyes and she was wearing an empire-waist floral dress. She had a striking resemblance to Natsume, which Mikan thought impossible, because she never knew Natsume to have relatives in Japan. For all she knew, they were all in America.
"Oh! Hello!" said the girl. "I'm Aoi. Hyuuga Aoi! I was really pleased to see you made it out alive in that ocean of people down there! You look so pretty, you're like a porcelain doll."
Mikan could have sworn she herself was also pleased to have survived that. "Thank you, Aoi," Mikan promptly replied, stooping down to shake Aoi's tiny hands. Her hair fell gracefully to the floor and Aoi's eyes widened at the sight.
"Wow!" said Aoi, "you have pretty hair!"
Mikan smiled gratefully. And then, she felt another pair of tiny hands on her hair, tugging at it lightly and when she turned around, she saw a cute toddler, maybe about four or five years old, with teal blue eyes and spiky grayish-silver hair pressing her locks against his nose and inhaling deeply.
"Onee-chan," was what the young boy said. Although devoid of any emotion, the boy gave her a warm welcoming hug. And although she was quite taken aback, she returned the hug with much warmth and joy. When the young boy turned to face her, he was smiling angelically, contrary to his previous disposition mere minutes ago. She stood up and he grabbed her hand while Aoi took hold of the other, and she was filled with much love that she actually laughed.
Mikan was surprised to have had such level of attention coming from people she barely knew. She was called pretty, doll, and nee-chan by children she felt a strong attachment for; and she had someone to inquire about it. She looked around in search of a familiar face, one with black hair and deep red eyes, and found what she was looking for; indeed, he was there, mere feet away from her with a big smile on his face. Well, not exactly big, but we shall daresay it was the largest smile Hyuuga Natsume ever mustered in his entire life. She smiled back much enthusiastically, until a loud fake cough snapped her out of La-La land. Her head jerked upwards and for the second time that evening, she was met with annoyed green eyes that shook the humanity out of her.
"I see you've met my brother and sister," she said scornfully. After having taken a good look at her, though, and after having considered that she was nice and pretty enough for her taste, stuck out a hand and said through a beautiful yet somehow scary smile, "I'm Hyuuga Sumire. The young boy on your left hand is Youichi. We're Natsume's siblings."
Her brilliant smile faded gradually as the thought sunk into her skull.
"You ..." she stuttered and would have been crushed at the thought, "You're Hyuuga Natsume's siblings?"
Sumire gave a sly smile. "Well, yes. Don't you believe me?"
By the tone of her voice, Mikan deduced that she had nothing more to do other than actually believe her, because her tone of voice seemed to demand that she believe.
"Uh, yeah," said Mikan awkwardly. "I believe you ... it's just that it's somehow difficult for me to perceive that you three — such sweet—" she gulped at the thought, as she did not believe one of them (particularly a green-haired one) to be sweet, "— people would be related to that man over there."
Sumire scowled. "Do you doubt my brother's aptitude and attitude? Well, believe me; you still have a lot to learn about him."
Mikan smiled and thought, yes, I still have a lot to learn.
"You have ..." she began when she was finally able to rejoin him after detaching herself from Youichi, Aoi, and Sumire, "you have ... interesting siblings."
He smirked at her. "Figured they'd be more like me, huh?"
She was ashamed of his statement yet couldn't find enough strength to deny it or fight for it as well, so instead of fighting a hopeless war, she just contented herself to walking the length of the restaurant's dining room beside him in a comfortable silence.
Natsume glanced at Mikan, who was striding elegantly alongside him and whose head was bowed. He smiled at her and decided to drop the bomb: the other reason why they were here.
"Aside from meeting Shino," he said, vaguely imagining what her face will be once she finds out, "You'll be meeting my parents."
She stopped in her tracks, turned her head robotically towards his direction, slanted her eyes for the nth time that day, and whispered venomously, "You filthy scum! Urgh! Didn't you ever think of saying that maybe a little earlier?"
He grunted and shrugged in reply. She was about to retaliate when suddenly she heard a cool, cheery voice scream from behind her, "Natsume, dear! We're here!"
She froze.
Hyuuga Natsume, you will be so dead once we get home.
"Oh! Natsume! So this is her? The girlfriend that people talked about?" the woman said, a sparkle in her eyes. Mikan looked uncomfortable but gave off a shy smile as they eventually neared her.
Natsume took her by the waist, looking at her from the corner of his eyes (her eyes flinched at his sudden action) and said, "Yes, Ma, this is her. Sakura Mikan."
"Oh, and what nice name you have!" said the woman again, looking at Mikan through green pools. She was an immensely beautiful woman for her age, and she definitely did not look like a thirty-seven year old mother of four. She had alluring emerald eyes, much like Sumire's, and long flowing silvery-blonde hair. This alone was enough to enchant Mikan, but add to that, she was smiling a very radiant smile at Mikan, which seemed to have been infectious, as the latter began to smile as well.
"I'm Hyuuga Kairi, Natsume's mother, and this is my husband, Ayura," Mrs. Hyuuga said, motioning towards her right, where her husband stood up, and kissing Mikan's hand, fixed those flamed red eyes that Mikan knew only too much. He had raven hair like Natsume's, but it was tinged with gray. His face had the same pallor and beauty as his four kids, albeit lined with age. Other than that, he seemed to be a pleasurable man in Mikan's opinion.
"Miss Sakura, such a pleasure to finally meet my future daughter-in-law," Mr. Hyuuga said, bowing down. The smile slid off Mikan's face as she turned to look at the now-smirking Natsume. Her eyes were turning as red as the man before her.
"Yes, such a pleasure as well, Sir, Madame," she said, turning back to Natsume's parents with a smile forced only by cordiality.
"Enchanted!" said Kairi, looking fondly at Mikan. "Now, what are we doing, all standing up? Come, let's eat!" she said again, clapping her hands together and beckoning Mikan and Natsume to sit down. "Aoi, Sumire, You-chan, come over now, please. It's time to eat. Youichi, let go of the draping, Karui will not like that! And Aoi, please watch over your brother," she finished exasperatedly. From the corner of her eyes, Mikan could see Sumire's perfect walk (glide, perhaps, would be a more befitting word) and Aoi and Youichi's scamper. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly and when she diverted her gaze to her right, she saw Natsume looking at her as well. She felt her blush and turned away from him to hide her face.
"Now, tell me more about you, please, dear," Mrs. Hyuuga obliged, after they sat down.
"Well," Mikan answered promptly, "I am twenty-two years of age, and I write. I'm currently in the middle of writing my first novel."
Mrs. Hyuuga's eyes popped. "Oh! You are? Would you mind, my husband and I have a printing press. If you would desire it to, we could publish your work. We have Kazikawa Shino in our family, after all, and he can look over you book and proofread it. He could also review it," said Mrs. Hyuuga.
"You are related to Kazikawa Shino?" Mikan asked halfway through a spoon of food. "I mean, the Kazikawa Shino?"
Sumire gave her a disbelieving stare. "You don't know?" she said. "Shino is our cousin. Mother's maiden name is Kazikawa Kairi." She smiled and resumed to her eating.
"I'm sorry," said Mikan, "but Natsume didn't tell me he was."
"Oh, it's okay, dear," said Mrs. Hyuuga. "Come to think of it, where is Shino?"
Her husband looked at the door of the dining area and said in an amused tone, "Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear."
Mikan smiled and turned to look at the door as well and was admittedly stunned to have seen such glamour and elegance and handsome features all sewn into one person. There he was: Kazikawa Shino. He had luscious brown locks that were all messed up yet in a handsome sort of way, and he had eyes blue and strikingly so. He walked with such strength, but not a tiny hint of pride. His face had the finest features enough to rival that of Natsume's, although Mikan had to admit that Natsume's were more arresting compared to Shino's gentle appearance. He was walking slowly towards them and Mikan couldn't help but stare. But eventually snapping out of her senses, she went back to her ravioli.
"Aunt Kairi, Uncle Ayura, Aoi, Youichi, Sumire, Natsume," said Shino through his deep, soothing voice, nodding his head at every name; Sumire giggled when he said her name. He faced Natsume and held out a hand.
"Shino," said Natsume, standing up to wring his cousin's hand. Natsume sat down and so did Shino (uncomfortably enough, he was sat directly in front of Mikan), but not before he noticed our flustered young Miss Sakura.
Shino flicked his electric blue eyes towards her direction, suddenly lit up with excitement.
"And who — pray tell — is this beautiful young lady sitting in front of me?" he asked. He stood up and walked over to Mikan, who was, by this time, blushing scarlet. He took her hand and kissed it tenderly, and immediately she flushed. Natsume's eyes slanted and his fist balled underneath the table.
"She's Sakura Mikan, Shino," said Natsume through gritted teeth, "my girlfriend."
"Oh," said Shino, letting drop Mikan's hand. She turned away at once and muttered a shy "Pleased to meet you" and immediately went back to her food.
The evening passed by well enough, except perhaps for the fact that Shino kept looking at her and Natsume kept shooting Shino sharp glares, that Aoi and Youichi were staring at her like some sort of angel in disguise and that Sumire was drooling all over Shino and Natsume. ("Trust us," said Aoi, "Mikan-nee, if we hadn't known better we would've thought Sumire-chan as a fan girl.")
Adding to the din was Mr. and Mrs. Hyuuga's constant hints of Mikan coming to stay in the Hyuuga residence. But since her mind was too full of incomprehensible apprehension towards Natsume's stares and Shino's gaze, she was far too distant.
"Mikan-chan?" said Mrs. Hyuuga, snapping Mikan out of her thoughts. "Are you alright?"
Mikan hitched a smile on her face and said, "Yes, ma'am, I'm quite well."
"Oh, please," said Mrs. Hyuuga, alarming Mikan. "Don't call me 'Ma'am' like I'm old or something. Call me Auntie Kairi. Soon enough you'll call me 'mom', after all."
Mikan nodded shyly, a little taken aback by the 'mom' thing. "What was it you were asking me again, Auntie?"
"Well, dear, I was hoping you would come to stay with us at the Hyuuga Manor."
Mikan couldn't speak. Mrs. Hyuuga was looking hopefully at her, and Aoi and Youichi's pleading looks were enough to convince her, but she refused the proposal.
"Oh, no, Aunt Kairi," Mikan said. "I think I've trespassed quite far enough at a family dinner such as this; I can't push myself to ask for more."
Hyuuga Ayura laughed. "You are such a modest young woman, Miss Sakura. But I won't take no for an answer," said Mr. Hyuuga. "I really would like to get to know you better. It's the first time Natsume's ever brought a woman to our midst, and I tell you, we all thought him gay at first."
"Dad," said Natsume sternly while his family and Mikan laughed.
"I must say, I'm quite glad with who he brought: a modest young girl, decent, charming, and beautiful, of course."
Mikan looked quite shocked and felt heat creeping up her cheeks. Natsume's eyes were telling her to say yes, but she really can't help but refuse. This family has done enough now that they've accepted her. She reckoned it would be too far if she happened to intrude at their home.
"Ne, Mikan-nee," said Youichi in his small voice, his eyes shining with fervor. The effort to speak was obviously paining him. "Come wif us. I want to see you again. I wanna pway wif you. I wike you."
"See, Mikan?" said Mrs. Hyuuga. "Even little You-chan wants you. Please, dear. Just give us the pleasure of having you home, we'd all love to have you over."
She shifted in her seat; her walls finally seem to be giving in. "How long will I stay?" she asked, a little off.
"Oh, maybe just a few months," said Mr. Hyuuga.
"A ...few months?" repeated Mikan blankly. "I — I really appreciate it but —"
"She's coming," said Natsume, cutting Mikan's excuses. Mikan whipped her head at him and opened her mouth to scold him when a barrage of happy words suddenly cut her off completely.
"Oh, finally you agreed," said Sumire, clapping her hands. "You havegot to show me your wardrobe; something tells me we have a lot of burning to do, and not to mention a lot of shopping. And I need to borrow that dress, Mikan-chan. Finally, I have a girl of my age with me at home!"
"Yay!" said Aoi, jumping in her seat, "we're having Mikan-nee!"
Even Youichi looked very pleased. He had a tiny smile in his face while picking the cherries from the ice cream in front of him. Mr. Hyuuga was nodding his approval and Mrs. Hyuuga was fussing on her cell phone, making arrangements about the house as soon as possible. Natsume and Shino, however, were looking at her—the former with a smirk, the latter with a smile.
After all the happiness has been done with, Mrs. Hyuuga turned to Mikan, "Dear, the limo's already outside to pick you up. We're giving you an hour and a half to pack up. Natsume'll help you out...now, chop chop!"
Her eyes were bewildered, because a departure that's so soon? She was still hung over when Natsume took her hand and led her away from the table and into the elevator. She could barely retain the idea in her mind, and while walking down towards the lobby, she was in deep thought as to whether what happened back there was just a dream.
"You owe me one," she said scathingly to Natsume, who was gloatingly smug. "You owe me my life, Hyuuga Natsume."
"And you don't?" Natsume retorted. "If you don't recall, you nearly had me killed this afternoon by setting a trail of murderous fan girls after me."
"That...that was different!"
"No it wasn't. It's quite the same, once you look at it a little more carefully."
And he triumphed over a livid Sakura Mikan all throughout the trip back home.
Her cell phone rang.
"Hello?" she answered. The caller ID was unknown to her. But a few seconds later, she recognized it to be Mrs. Hyuuga. She happily replied, but suddenly paused and froze, as if a freeze ray hit her squarely in the face. She shut her phone and lowered it slowly, her eyes still wide.
She could just not manage to understand why these things had to happen to her, and she was still shocked from what Mrs. Hyuuga Kairi told her...
"Mikan-chan, we'd like you to stay for a year instead. I hope that's fine with you, dear! We'll be expecting you at the Hyuuga Manor soon! And Miss Imai is already here with me, she'll be waiting!"
"But—Aunt Kairi—"
The line went dead.
She groaned. Natsume looked at her curiously. "What did Mother say?"
She glared at him first before answering. "She asked me to stay over for a year."
She swore she saw a look of triumph in his hatefully handsome face.
Just great, she thought to herself. The family she can manage. Aoi was alright, and Youichi is definitely cute, but her problem now is: a year with Hyuuga Natsume? How the hell was she supposed to survive that now?
Edited. (:
~Ash.