A/N: to the Guest who told me she listens to the soundtrack of The Last Samurai while reading this. Well, this time, I wrote this chapter whilst listening to it. Never seen the film, but thought-provoking soundtrack!

Night Terror


Just as Mikan had predicted, a week later, Anna had asked Mikan and Natsume during their very small dinner whether or not they'd be interested in playing a game or two of Kamabuki after eating.

"I haven't played in a long time. It'd be nice to play."

"Sure, why not." Natsume agreed.

"Watch out, Romi," Mikan warned, "Anna's the best player I know."

It was all very strange, as being here in Mikan's house made Natsume feel as if the war was so far away. Of course, there were hints that people out there were fighting and dying: the newspaper made sure the Aliceans did not forget, and the government often interrupted the radio station with 'good' news about the war. But Natsume knew, from experience and by the vagueness of such reports, that this was just the Alicean government's method of keeping up morale. Propaganda at its finest. There was no way, for example, that Alicean forces had stamped out Z officers in the Eastern borders: he was a Major General and he knew enough to know this was impossible for the Aliceans. Many probably died trying though.

"I'm quite good myself." Natsume countered, faintly smiling in the direction of Anna. "I… I was my school's Kamabuki champion - from primary all the way up to high school."

Both Mikan and Anna knew very little about Romi's past. Whilst Mikan was too scared to ask, Anna, not knowing his Z identity pursued for more. "Oh? So you're naturally a very logical person then."

"I guess."

"I suppose I am too." Anna mused, before she turned to Mikan with a sly grin. "On the other hand, Mikan over here prefers tamer games. She's not a fan of Kamabuki."

"I don't hate it," Mikan clarified, "I appreciate the game, but I rather watch than participate."

"What do you mean you appreciate it? Doesn't that just mean you like it?" Natsume asked.

"I appreciate how it teaches us rationality and strategy. I appreciate Kamabuki's intrinsic position in our society. I just don't like how it's such a calculating game. The objective is to conqueror your opponent's King. It's a bit too destructive for my liking. I think I prefer more creative games. But like I said, I still appreciate it, and I'm always awed by Anna's quick mind."

After they finished eating, and after all the plates were cleaned and dried, Mikan came to the room with a Kamabuki board. She insisted she'd rather watch Anna and Romi play, and soon, the room sunk into a studious silence. Taking some paper, Mikan started to string together poetic musings, glancing from time to time at the Kamabuki match.

Slowly and deliberately Anna moved her pieces. Quickly and sharply Natsume moved his pieces. Until—

"Checkmate."

Mikan smiled. "I told you she was good."

Anna smiled. "I'm sorry, Romi. Better luck next time."

For once, it didn't feel bad to lose. For once, Natsume could appreciate his opponent's superiority. For once, Natsume accepted defeat graciously. "You're the best player I've come across."

"You were pretty good as well." Anna amiably replied.

And so. It was all very strange, as being here (somewhat) made the war seem so far away… the only conquering and fighting in the house consisted on the Kamabuki board after all.

But that didn't mean the blood and the bodies left Natsume completely. At night, the colour of the blood deepened and the bodies moaned and groaned inside his mind, worsening the pain of his abdomen. He tried hard to get to sleep, and once he found sleep, all of a sudden he was drowning in blood, being pulled by mutilated body parts, everywhere, everywhere—

"Romi! Romi!"

Natsume's eyes flew open, and then, he smacked his head against low table as he shot up from bed, howling. He was frantic, erratic absolute panicked, and his panic and cries worsened upon the sight of blood on his sheets and the blood that stained his hands—

Mikan grabbed Romi firmly by the shoulders, and wrenched him into her bosom. "Romi, please! Romi!" She held him fiercely, and soon, the cries subdued into ragged, laborious breaths.

She was kind enough to stroke his head to calm him down.

Anna's voice came next, "Romi—"

"He's alright, Anna. He's alright." Mikan voice came from above his head, her breathing rippling through his hot hair. "He's okay. You can go back to sleep, Anna." She reassured her friend, but unknown to Natsume whose eyes were closed, Anna went to get a cup of water, returned, left it on the table before leaving back to her bedroom. Anna knew better than to crowd around someone who was going through a panic attack.

Natsume, encased so softly but firmly in Mikan's chest, slowly calmed down as he rested his ears to hear Mikan's steady breathing while feeling the way her chest rose and sunk every time she breathed. Her breath calibrated his, and though it took a while, Natsume gathered his strength and pulled himself away from her.

He couldn't help the shame that now replaced his panic. "I… I…" he couldn't even finish his sentence.

"It was just a dream." Mikan gently said. "It was just a dream."

He nodded, before he guiltily looked at her white night clothes. "I've stained your dress." Dark red blood was smeared artfully against the white, as if it were paint on a new canvas. "I'm sorry."

"Lie down."

Natsume did as he was told. He shut his eyes.

Mikan examined his abdomen. "It looks like the wound has completely reopened. Perhaps you clawed at it during your night terror." Natsume wasn't that surprised at her assessment: self-infliction of pain happened often in the army, he had seen it happen again and again. "We need to get you some ointments."

Not wanting to burden her further, Natsume try to insist otherwise. "It's fine. It just needs to be bandaged."

"It needs medicine." Mikan resolutely, steadfastly concluded.

His eyes were still shut, and he breathed very noisily and very deeply. After a moment of silence, Natsume said, "I'm sorry for waking you and Anna. What time is it?"

"It's alright. It's around 4a.m."

He slightly shook his head in embarrassment, and Mikan watched him do so. Very tentatively, but feeling that it might help, Mikan reached her hand out and gingerly placed it on the side of his head. Initially, Natsume froze, but when she did not withdraw the hand, Natsume decided to indulge in to comfort she was offering to him. Seeing this, Mikan sympathetically stroked, from his temple to just above his ear.

"It's okay. I'll stay till you fall asleep. You're okay."

"You will?"

"If it'll help."

"It will."

"Alright then."

Natsume focused on the way her fingers moved across his head, as if paving a new way. It felt somewhat hypnotic, and without really meaning to, as if lulled by her fingers, he admitted, "The pain in my abdomen reminds me of war."

"It'll heal, don't worry. And once it's healed, you can go home."

Home seemed many miles away. But it was many miles away. That was the truth.

"But what if the wounds in there don't?"

Mikan's fingers paused. By there she knew he meant in his mind; the untouchable, intangible traumas. Bravely, she answered, "They'll take more time but they'll heal too. When you're back home."

He then felt her hand retract. His eyes opened.

"I'll get you some bandages and new sheets too." She was quick; soon enough, she was back cleaning the bloody mess, and balling the stained sheets before laying out the clean sheets. She encouraged him to get comfortable in the clean sheets, before starting to bandage his abdomen wound again.

To distract him from the pain, smell and haunts, Natsume spoke. "I remembered something. About Z religion. You wanted to know."

"Oh yes." Mikan glanced at him, "Tell me."

"Out of the darkness, our one God created Light. Our God is Love, who works in mysterious ways. We can't… I mean, I don't think we're supposed to understand our God. At least, I didn't understand when I went to the religious houses."

"Temples are peaceful places." Mikan soothingly said. "I don't think one needs to come out of them feeling wiser. They're just pockets of peace."

"In Z, families go to religious houses every Saturday."

"Oh? Here we don't have a specific day in the week."

"That's probably better. Making religion a weekly obligation didn't work for my friends or me. As kids, we would just play or pass notes. As teenagers, we snuck out to smoke cigarettes behind the building. Now I don't go at all. And the more I think about it, the more it's absurd to think that my country's religion speaks so hypocritically about peace."

"Religion has good intentions, I think. It's always just perverted by some insane megalomaniac. Or it's just plainly exploited by the government. It's a mad world out there. That's what my father taught me at any rate."

"Where are your parents?" He then froze, feeling stupid. Then, fear gnawed, and his heart pounded: he was scared to hear her answer that question.

"They're in Hina." A city in the South, as far as Natsume was aware, "They went there to take care of my grandfather. They're safe – there is no need to look so worried. My father still trades, and mother is a craftswoman. Hairpins are her specialty – I have many of her designs." She paused before cautiously asking, "And what about your parents?"

"They live in Z's capital city, Whitehall. They're… they're socialites. My father owns the biggest library and research centre in town. My mother has never worked a day in her life."

Mikan nodded, understanding. "Old money, huh?"

Natsume felt sheepish. It was strange – back in his youth, back in Z, he always felt that his family status was something to be proud of, but now, he wished he could offer a more modest background to Mikan. He wanted to impress Mikan; he wanted to make her think 'wow, here's a man who's worked hard in his life' but he could not deliver that unless he lied.

"Yeah," he admitted, staring up at the dark ceiling, "thanks to them, I went to best school and the best university in town. I was educated to be a banker, and for half a year I worked. But then the war started. My boss invested a huge amount of money into the war, and so it became expected of myself and my friends at the firm to join the army." He didn't mention that his status, connections and wealth helped him get promoted within the army very quickly. But saying this to Mikan felt incredibly cathartic; it was as if this was a Confession, suck the poison out of his heart.

"You mentioned before that you have a little sister. How old is she?"

"Twenty-one."

"Oh! Not so little then." Mikan smiled.

"How old are you?"

Her smile turned brazen. "I'll leave that for you to guess." Was her vague response before she asked, "Do you get along well with your sister?"

"Yeah. She's the only one in my family I get along well with."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's the problem with having socialite parents. They have little time for you, and even less time for your feelings."

"I'm sure that's not true. Perhaps they can't express themselves very well."

Natsume insisted, "I'm engaged."

"Oh!" Mikan brightly smiled, and even paused her handiwork to look him, "That's wonderful!"

"No – you don't understand," he shook away her felicitations, "it was never my choice. I only met her after my parents and her parents decided that we should get married." He didn't want to say that he didn't love Luna out loud. He felt he had hurt Luna enough these past five years of deadening silence.

Five years ago, just at the dawn of the war, Natsume's parents announced that he was to marry the daughter of a successful family. 'No' was not really an option and mere days after she became his fiancée, Natsume was shipped off to war with his friends.

"That's how my grandparents started." Mikan quietly said, seeing Natsume's sad expression, "And my grandmother always said it was the best thing she'd ever done. Unlike other couples whose zenith was their marriage day, my grandma said she grew to love my grandfather after marrying him, day by day. Together they worked at their marriage, and it grew every day, every year. I don't think your circumstances are bad at all. I'm sure you'll be very happy to see her when you go back home, and very happy to marry her too. I'm sure she misses you terribly." Mikan then patted his shoulder. "There you go. All patched up. I'm done."

Natsume shuffled, and propped himself up with his elbow. "Are you going?" He didn't want to ask, beg her to stay. He felt vulnerable enough all ready. But he wished, wished, wished that she would continue speaking to him, in her low, slow voice.

Mikan looked down at him. He didn't have to explicitly voice his fear. "I will stay. I think you've been playing with fire for too long, Romi." She then said in a brighter voice, "I will give you one of my mother's hairpin. You can give it then to your fiancée when you see her again. They are modest hairpins, but they are beautiful."

Natsume swallowed painfully before murmuring, his eyes closed, "It's funny. The more I talk to you about my life in Z, the more I remember that it is not as sweet as I sometimes dream it to be. I think the dream of 'home' can be so dangerous in war… so powerful too. But I think I'm just so… I don't want to go home and feel disappointment. I don't want my fantasies of home to outdo reality."

In a soft voice, Mikan asked, "What do you see when you dream of home?"

"I see my sister. My best friend. My friends. The tree in my garden, my dog under it… my study." Each word constricted Natsume's throat tighter and tighter.

"I'm sure you'll find everything you need when you go home. Be patient – you'll get better soon." She promised. She pretended she didn't see Natsume turn his left cheek into his pillow, concealing half his face.

Would he? What if Luca dies? What if his friends die too? What if a bomb blows the tree and his dog away, like Anna's parents? What if—

"At the beginning of the war," Mikan said, and Natsume exhaled, his vicious thoughts coming to a halt, "when there were still many children, we used to use this house as a bomb shelter. Under the floor of the food drying room, there is a sturdy underground room. Hoshikuzu experienced bombings at the beginning of the war, for around a week, until the Z army moved East. Anyway, in the bomb shelters, I used to hum to some of the children and even some of the adults to get them to sleep. I don't know if that will help you…"

"You could try."

And so she hummed a tune, a low, low tune that seemed to promise everything but nothing at the time. It was a sad lullaby, promising to keep him safe, but not promising that the world was a good place. But as Natsume lay there, listening, he felt her low vibrating tones sink in to his skin. His chest rose and fell with Mikan's humming, and before he knew it, his heart felt warm, and in that instance of warmth, he fell asleep.

As Mikan quietly crept away from him, taking the stained sheets, many many miles away, across the border in the land of Z, Luna Koizumi was also creeping away from a sleeping man.

She had been in his bed every night for the past week and a half. He had been a great comfort during her fiancé's absence and she watched him for five years, admiring his home front efforts towards the war. He was an important man, very much so, being in charge of the main bank of Whitehall, Z's capital city. He'd always ask to see her, to check if she were alright, to check if she were eating enough during these five years… and when the news came of Natsume's M.I.A (and most likely death), the first person to come console her was Natsume's boss, Kuonji. They became lovers that same night.

And as she drove away from his house, she thought of Natsume. She thought how happy she was, five years ago, when she first met him. She had known from an early age that it would be her parents, not her, to chose a husband. And when she met Natsume, she felt all her worries disappear. He was exactly what she had dreamed of… tall, handsome, wealthy … but above all, kind and sincere. And it killed her when he never replied to her letters. It killed her to find out how he was from Aoi, his little sister. It killed her to see the long letters he had written to Aoi. It killed her every time to receive nothing back, because it just showed her that he did not love her: he did not have time for her, he did not spare a thought for her. And when she heard of his death, Luna just stood, frozen, staring at the small picture of him that she kept by the telephone.

But this way, no one gets letters. It wouldn't just be her. She wasn't alone anymore.


A/N: And it's a wrap!

Hope you all liked this chap.

I've also decided to keep this T-rated (for now…). I feel like I should reply to your reviews, so without further ado:

Hi: I don't think your review was pointless. No at all! Thanks for letting me know about what you think about the rating, and my story as a whole. Your English is also great – no need to apologise for writing in a language that's not native to yourself.
ShiroiNeko: I'm a silent reader, so I really appreciate you taking your time to write a review for me. That's real kind. Hope you liked this chapter too.
Honki no Shika: You'll see more of Sumire as the story progresses. Oh, trust me, my imagination has been running wild recently: definitely got some adult scenes up my sleeve. I'll see if it fits with the narrative though!
rebelle14: Well thank your friend for recommending my story. That's real nice. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too.
Sparklybutterflies1: Ah, really? I feel my story really lacks description. I tried to add more in this chapter, but once again, it just became a long conversation again. Thanks for your input – still T-rated as you suggested.
blueabyss16: Of course it would not be wrong for you to demand here! And voila, I have delivered. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and it keeps you excited about what is to come. (And yeah, I hate war… suffice to say)
Chethana917: Thanks for your kind words! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter too.
Guest: Thank you, Guest, for recommending the Last Samurai soundtrack! Adds a nice touch, I think, like you said. And yeah, they are still 'developing': their romance is loading…
mayaoingoing: Why yes I am back. Thanks for your review, hope you liked this one too.
YellowOrangeRed: Glad you like all the characters thus far. I promise there will be evil villains too, those engineering destruction. Look out for them, I guess. As to whether this will end in tragedy…. Hmm… you'll just have to wait and see.
CrazyShortie: I'm glad you like my rather bland writing style! If I told my professors that, they'd laugh the library down. Anyway, thanks for your review.
Guest: Glad my update made you happy. I'm glad you like all the characters. And hurrah! Another hater of war: now, if only leaders of certain countries thought like us…
cheerry-blossoms: hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for your review!
Guest: why thank you.
suenethakchan: Yes, yes, yes. Women are so mistreated during war… and scarily, even in times of peace sexism still exists. Why, just why. Anyway, thanks for your review!