Poisoned Apple
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice. If I did, I wouldn't be making a fan fiction right now.
. . .
"Nice to meet you again. . . Polkadots." Hyuuga Natsume smirked.
"You MOLESTER!" Mikan screeched, pointing an accusing finger at the seemingly amused dignitary.
Why did she have to meet him again?
. . .
The bubbly brunette was skipping through town, running errands and hoping to visit her grandfather. But just as she passed by a large manor with wrought iron gates, the red brick wall surrounding the enormous mansion beside her exploded, sending Mikan skidding across the pavement, shrieking.
Amidst the smoke and debris, a figure stood atop the crumbling wall. He wore a mask that hid his entire face; he had ruffled raven locks swaying in the slight breeze. He jumped off as agilely as a cat, as gracefully. Suddenly a whip lashed at the lad, and his mask fell off.
Mikan sat there on the sidewalk dumbstruck, not knowing how to react. Narumi-sensei was standing beside her, holding a whip but smiling serenely, and why or how he was there was beyond Mikan's comprehension.
She thought she heard Narumi-sensei say, "Pity, I think I ruined that cute face of his," before scampering away from a dark-haired man who was running after him, yelling about bean thieves.
Mikan's eyes darted to the boy, who lay on the ground, a slash across his cheek. Compassion overtook Mikan, and she rushed to the boy's side, inquiring if he was alright.
"Are you okay, mister?" asked Mikan worriedly, handing the young man her handkerchief. The response was a glare from his crimson eyes; and standing up, he picked up something on the ground.
"Help yourself before helping others . . . Polka-dots,"
And replacing his black cat mask, he strutted away, handing the utterly befuddled Mikan her skirt.
. . .
Mikan's musings were interrupted by a screech.
"Don't you dare call Natsume-sama a—a—a molester!" screeched a dark-haired girl, pointing an accusing finger at Mikan. "Someone of low rank like you has no right to talk like that to Natsume-sama!"
Peeved, Mikan retorted at the curly haired girl, "I'm calling this pervert for who he is! Who in the world are you, anyway?"
The lass threw a strand of permed hair over her shoulder. "I am Shouda Sumire, president of the official Hyuuga Natsume- Nogi Ruka Fan Club. But of course, a low-life like you wouldn't know that," she sneered haughtily.
"I don't care who you are or what you do, permy, but don't underestimate people just because of rankings! People with that attitude and mentality like yours rank way lower! Get that stupid brain of yours fixed!"
A ringing silence followed Mikan's explosion.
"Stop making a scene in front of me, old hags," murmured Hyuuga Natsume.
"Yeah, old hags," mimicked Youichi.
"Tell them to go away, Youichi," ordered Natsume.
"Go away, ugly," said the little boy.
"What the hell are you teaching the kid!" erupted Mikan while Sumire sobbed in a corner.
He set his crimson orbs on the feisty girl and walked away in silence.
"That rude jerk," said Mikan through clenched teeth.
"Mikan," a voice said behind the agitated brunette.
The aforementioned whipped around, throwing her arms open. "HOTARUUUU!"
BAKA!
"Ouch! Hotaru, what did I do?"
Yes, as the whole kingdom can see, the two best friends were following their usual script.
"You dummy. Of all the people to get mixed up with, why did you pick the most dangerous?" scolded the Princess in her monotone.
"Huh?" asked Mikan, but the cryptic royalty just gazed after the retreating figure of Hyuuga Natsume. Mikan followed her gaze and somehow, some things clicked into place.
"HOTARU! DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE CHOOSING HIM?!"
Impassive, Hotaru stared at Mikan and nodded mutely.
. . .
Out in the darkness of the night, two people stood under the vast canopy of a Sakura tree on the Palace's sweeping grounds, beneath the salt-sprinkled sky.
"Natsume." A masked man, clad entirely in black, spoke through the silence.
"Those were the master's orders. Don't dare disobey them."
Clenched fists were the reply. Glowing crimson orbs glared at the man.
The man smiled a sinister smile, eyes covered by his white mask. "You know what will happen to those most important to you," he paused, plucking leaves from a low branch, "if you place us in jeopardy," the leaves lay crushed in his white hands.
"Do you understand, Natsume?"
He turned on his heel, and Natsume's glower followed his retreat.
"Damn you, Persona," he muttered before disappearing into the swirling colors of the party.