Tachibana Higuchi owns Gakuen Alice. Always has and always will.
Chapter seven
Mochiage René preferred to be called Mochu if one personally knew him. He was a racer and one of Natsume's most loyal friends to come to his aid. He had a certain addiction to alcohol and drugs but nothing serious. But if there was one thing one would like to know about Mochu, then it was this-
He wasn't brightest bulb in the box.
Even he knew that.
Mochu was quick to temper and even more quicker to pick up a fight. But really never in his wildest dreams did he think that it'd lead to this.
Natsume's gonna be so fuckin' pissed, he thought and winced slightly.
Ruka groaned in his arms and Mochu was forced to make a decision right there.
"Ah fuck." He cussed loudly as he whipped out his phone and dialled Natsume's number.
"Mochu?"
"Uh, boss we've got an issue here. . ."
Natsume, on the other side of the call, steeled. Mochu never called if he did, then that meant there was a serious problem.
Oh and a problem it was.
He slumped his shoulders and laid back on the chair as he listened to Mochu narrate. Apparently, Ruka and he had been out drinking, they weren't terribly drunk but drunk enough to pick up a bar fight.
This bar fight ended up in Ruka getting terribly injured. As in a shoulder dislocation, a glass had been thrown at the back of his head and he had injured the side of his head when someone hit him with a rod which now caused Mochu's hand to be stained red.
And what happened exactly after that?
An ambush. At first Mochu didn't pay much heed to the men around them in the bar although it seemed like he had seen them before somewhere. But when a few men approached him, he recognised them on point. The Ayuzawa brothers.
They loathed Natsume with every fibre of their body because he had snatched away their main source of capital. Which Mochu agrees was morally wrong. But this was business. If you were in the underworld, you were bound to make enemies that would last a lifetime. Also, when Natsume was doing business, he was ruthless.
Most of them were but that was beside the point.
Needless to say, Natsume had made many enemies but the Ayuzawa brothers pretty much topped the list.
Which is why, it didn't take Mochu to grab Ruka and break into a run to the nearest alley he could find. He was presently hiding there while the men of the Ayuzawa brothers scouted the areas around them.
"But if Ruka's howling like a dying engine," Mochu mumbled to Natsume, "That ain't gonna happen."
The blond whimpered in his arms again. "Really, Ruka. Stop moaning like a sex obsessed dinosaur."
Had Ruka been in a better state, he would have punched Mochu but Alas, it's a sad world.
"Natsume, what do I do?"
"Stay put. I'm coming in a few minutes." Mochu heard a car being started in the background. "Also, did you inform Imai?"
Mochu winced again. Fuck. He had almost forgotten about her.
"No."
"Then do so. I'll be reaching there in five." Natsume disconnected the call.
Mentally, he tried framing exactly what he'd say to her when she would recieve his call.
Uh, hey, Imai. So ya know how I took Ruka, the sunshine of your cold, cold life out for a drink? Yeah we kinda got into a bar fight and uh. . .Ruka may accidentally die.
Mochu threw his head back. This could result in him getting mutilated for not being able to take care of the blue eyed man. He really hoped Natsume was coming soon.
At this point, Mochu kept in mind to not let Ruka doze off. He wasn't a medical person but he knew falling unconscious would be terrible in the given situation.
Sometimes, Mochu wondered if this was karma coming back and biting him for the shit he had done.
Well, fuck it.
He called Imai. An experience that he would never like to experience again. Needless to say, Natsume and her were on their way, close by. He needed Ruka to hold on until then.
"C'mon, Nogi. Keep up."
"I'd like. . .to see you try. . .being in my place in-instead." Ruka whined.
"Stay awake, fucker. Argh! Tell me something! Talk about something you like." Mochu desperately stated.
"Like?"
"Talk about Imai. Yeah, talk 'bout your woman."
Heaven knows that was the last thing Mochu wanted to listen to but well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
Ruka smiled slightly at the mention of Hotaru.
"She's crazy."
"Agreed." Mochu consented.
Ruka glared at him, at least what seemed like a glare in his condition. Yet, he continued nonetheless.
"She's scary and intimidating. Hotaru has this power to make people tremble without even speaking." Ruka coughed up a bit and groaned when Mochu accidentally touched his shoulder. ". . . In fact Natsume and she have a lot of similar qualities.
"But- *cough* but deep inside she cares a truck load for every person she knows. Really Mochu. . .
"Hotaru Imai is lovely and I am lucky to have her with me. I- I really am-" Ruka's eyelids began drooping and Mochu felt panic rise within him.
"C'mon Ruka hold up, man!"
It was at this moment Natsume arrived and at that moment Mochu was grateful to his stars. Beside him was Hotaru who looked awfully worried and anxious.
"Take him to my manor. Inform Butler Lee about the situation. Go Imai." Natsume ordered, for once Hotaru didn't retaliate. It was at this moment that Mochu realised what a horrible misfortune it was to be a criminal and also be unable to go to the nearest hospital for aid.
Hotaru took her lover in arms and left with a few body guards to Natsume's house.
Mochu spared a glance at his boss. Who by the way looked perfectly murderous. Oh the Ayuzawa brothers were done for.
Natsume had brought a few men as Mochu stood up to his feet. He saw a glimpse of something dark in the corner of his eyes, the next thing he knew was the sound of a bullet being fired.
The shootout lasted a good of ten minutes before Natsume realised that the best plan of action would be to retreat. But they were cornered, there were simply too many goons of the Ayuzawa brothers.
This was planned. Mochu thought. This whole thing was. . . I'm gonna fuckin' kill Ayato Ayuzawa! He promised in vengeance.
Most of Natsume's men were killed and Mochu stared at the bloodshed before him before looking back at his leader.
"Mochu. Listen to me." Natsume commanded, authoritatively.
"Boss?"
"I'm gonna go out once. And they'll be distracted for a moment. Take that chance and run south from this alley. You'll find my car-"
"I can't leave you, boss." Mochu stated bluntly.
"We both can't get out alive of this-"
"No can do, Natsume. Boss or not, I am not leaving a comrade behind."
"Mochu." Natsume looked dead in his eyes, "It's an order."
"Also, if I don't make it back-"
"Natsume you will and for fuck's sake I'd rather die with you here than leave out alone."
"If I don't make it back. The entire organisation will come under Imai and Ruka. You will go, Mochiage René."
Mochu cussed loudly in protests. "At the count. Run and don't look back." Natsume commanded.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
Natsume began shooting out all the bullets he had buckled up in his gun while Mochu ran for his life. He hated it. Hated doing it. Hated leaving Natsume behind.
But he did disobey Natsume's order. Of looking back. The moment he was out of danger that's what he did. And what Mochu saw made his blood run cold.
Natsume was shot in the arm. Thrice.
Goddamnit.
| • • • • |
Nonoko Ogasawara was a bright, cheerful woman.
She had trained to become a teacher and had done so for a few months at a local school. Eventually, she settled down by becoming a landlady of the land that was initially owned by her parents.
Her life, unlike most, had been simple and sweet.
But she knew something tempestuous entered her life that stormy night when Mikan Sakura bought an apartment in her hostel.
The brunette had initially looked pissed but she composed herself when she met Nonoko. A several cup of teas and a few dinners later, they had become best of friends.
Nonoko was a poet at heart and Mikan was a lover of Keats and Auden.
They went well that way.
But that didn't mean Nonoko hadn't been suspicious or curious of Mikan. Of her habits, her odd variety of skill (like honestly, who on god's green earth would know how to knit and throw knives at the same time?) and the fact that she was entirely unwilling to share anything regarding her marriage made her climb higher on that scale.
Presently, Nonoko was sitting on a couch and reading a magazine in the apartment's front office.
"Umm Nee-san?" She looked upto Youchi standing against the receptionist's area.
"Hullo, Youchi. Good morning. Was there something you needed?"
"Morning. I just wanted to inform that I wouldn't be around for a day or a two." Youchi said, holding his bag over his shoulder.
"Oh. Why so?"
"A friend's sleepover."
"Oh that's great." Because considering the fact that Youchi was a downright introvert that was a major improvement. Youchi and Nonoko shared a sibling bond although not related by blood. She would cut him slack if he could not pay the rent. Especially knowing his background.
"Nonoko, listen. . ." Her attention on Youchi broke and shifted from him to Mikan who was dressed in a casual blue jeans and a beige oversized shirt. She wore a black fedora on her head and had a white acoustic guitar strapped to her shoulder.
"Yes, Mikan?"
"I'm going to be late tonight. I doubt I can make it for dinner at your place. I have a birthday party performance whatsoever." She said tying the laces of her white converse.
"Oh, that's fine." Nonoko shrugged and Mikan smiled at her and nodded towards Youchi before she walked out. Youchi glanced at the woman once more.
"What's wrong?"
He looked towards the purple haired woman who was cocking her head to the side.
"Is it about Mikan?"
He sighed, "Yes."
"And?" Nonoko prodded.
"She's not really what anyone would think she is."
At his questionable remark, Nonoko jerked her head forward, "Pardon?"
"You know you'd think she's all happy and cheery. Until you look into her eyes."
Youchi was perceptive. A fact that Nonoko knew and acknowledged. So if he came out with that conclusion she really didn't have a reason to not believe it.
But still. . .
"So what'd you see in 'em?"
"In a word?" Youchi asked, narrowing his eyes by the way Mikan went. "Misery. Pure fuckin' misery."
And then he left and Nonoko continued with her daily businesses with more than a thoughtful expression.
Hours later, Mikan wished birthday parties never existed. Was she really this annoying as a teenager? No, most likely not. She cracked her bones as she entered her apartment at half past one in the night.
Her stomach growled at the lack on contents. Mikan hadn't even had dinner or lunch for that matter. However, at the moment she was more than happy to just take a hot shower and go to sleep. The water was refreshing and she didn't bother to dry her hair.
She wore a knee length nightshirt that had Nirvana written all over. And she was more than delighted at the prospect of sleeping woth a day off tomorrow. Although she'd wake up early regardless due to annoying habits. That was okay.
However, no sooner was Mikan near the leg of her bed than she heard the doorbell ring.
What the actual fuck? She thought looking at the time.
The door bell rang again with a loud knock on the door. It could either be a Japanese secret spy agency or a Russian cat of the old woman living a floor below, Mikan's wild imagination suggested. She kept a Bowie knife her hand as she opened the door.
Much to Mikan's surprise, it was neither the Japanese secret spy agency nor a Russian cat.
In fact, it was. . .
"The hell, Hyuuga?" She asked, bewildered.
Natsume's face was at an uncomfortably close distance to her own. He looked paler than usual and there were wrinkles around his eyes, tired irises looking at her blankly, he smelled of brick debris and Mikan suspected that the brown soil and debris staining his dark blazer had something to do with it. If she had to surmise, Natsume looked as if he had been to hell and back.
"Hyuuga? What the heck-"
"I can't."
Mikan raised a brow at the phrase. " Can't what?" Only to see his eyes roll back to the back of his head.
When he didn't respond and fell over her unconsciously, Mikan knew it in her nerves that she wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
She had dropped the knife and closed the door while dragging the unconscious man across her living room. Mikan gave up and wrapped her arm around his neck and bent down to place her other arm at the back of his knee. She carried him to her bed steadily and placed him on the sheets.
All I asked was for sleep. She groaned, inwardly.
However, it was odd for Natsume to come all the way to her place and just to fall off unconsciously. He had his own place. A nineteenth century morgue house granted but a place to sleep nonetheless.
Oddly enough she had felt a wet liquid rubbed on the skin of her arm and staining her nightshirt. It was light red in colour and Mikan's heart dropped in realisation.
She hastily removed Natsume's blazer and the next thing she saw was blood.
Oh god. Here we go again.
Mochu is lowkey me. Tbh. Anyway, I've been binge watching Sherlock Holmes. Which I know isn't the best of decisions cause I'm supposed to be studying but oh well, fuck.
Alright, I'lI be off. Until next week then.
