Just a reminder: This chapter contains some material that has heavy implications that may be unsuitable for younger readers.

No, I do not own Gakuen Alice.

I felt light-headed and had to reach for the counter to steady myself. This unpleasant feeling was followed by a wave of nausea so strong that sweat broke out across my forehead and on the back of my neck, and my entire body began to tremble. The bowl of cereal I'd had that morning did not want to stay in my stomach, and I must have looked deathly ill because Koko did a double take.

"Mikan? What's the matter?"

At the mention of my name, I glanced towards the door to see if Hibiki had heard, but he was already taking a seat by the window and opening a newspaper. Before he had a chance to look up and see me, I turned back to Koko.

"I'm not feeling well," I told him, which wasn't a lie.

It all seemed painstakingly obvious to me now, Hibiki spending days at a time away from Yuka and I. Yuka seemed to drink more on those days, drowning her loneliness in booze because God knew that my company had never been enough for her. Hibiki, constantly bragging about the cities he'd gone to. It only made sense that he was a trucker, and now here he was, an obstacle in the way of my new start.

What made it worse was that I couldn't be honest with Koko, because that would involve coming clean about the reason I'd shown up, jobless, to this coffee shop two weeks ago. I couldn't tell him that that man was from a nightmare that I'd been tripping over myself in order to escape.

"You don't look well," Koko decided, reaching across the counter and pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. He frowned, possibly because it didn't feel like I had a fever, even though it felt to me like someone had started a fire beneath my feet and I was burning up. My breaths were quick and near panting, and the longer I stood, the more light-headed I felt.

"I must have had some expired milk this morning," I offered weakly. "I guess it's just catching up to me now."

"God, Mikan, you look green. Can you make it home?"

I pulled my apron off, nodding. "I'm sorry, Koko. I wish I could stay, but I feel like that would be a disaster."

He smiled, moving aside so I could gather my things from the employee cupboard. "I don't need you releasing your spoiled milk all over my customers. Go home and get some rest. And Mikan, call in sick if you have to tonight. I know you're stubborn enough to think you can handle it."

I waved my hand, trying to be dismissive about it, but all I could think was, Stop saying my name. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be fine. Just going to lay down and sleep for a bit. See you later, Koko."

"Feel better!"

I headed for the kitchen, shooting him a smile that felt forced over my shoulder. "Just in case I can't hold it in, I'll go out the back door." Without another glance in Hibiki's direction, I bolted through the kitchen and out the back door.

The fresh air did little to soothe my raging nerves. My eyes threatened to water, just recalling the face that had haunted so many of my nightmares since the day he'd walked into mine and Yuka's life. My legs felt like rubber underneath me, and the further I walked the more I wondered if I could make it home without passing out on the street.

I tried not to think about what might have happened had he seen me. Would he have said anything, or would he just have pretended that I was a waitress whom he knew nothing about? Somehow, I doubted that. Hibiki liked a big scene, and he would love the one that would be created when he stood up and announced that I was his runaway 'daughter', because he knew I would never have the guts to say what had gone on at home for as long as I could remember.

By the time I stumbled into my apartment, the nausea had worn off, and a feeling of relief was slowly extinguishing the panic that had caused it. All I had to do was keep reminding myself that he hadn't seen me, he hadn't seen me…

I slept because the overwhelming fear had exhausted me. And then I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and ate at my table trying to erase the image of Hibiki's face out of my mind.

Never in my life did I want to see him again. Even though he'd only been in my life for a couple of years, I think I almost preferred Yuka over him, even though Hibiki had never hit me. In his distant, secretive way, when he thought no one was watching, his eyes on me were much more unnerving than Yuka's fists.

I had just finished my sandwich when there was a knock on my door. At first, my heart jumped into my throat because I thought that maybe it was Hibiki, but one glance at the clock told me it had been two hours since I'd last seen him and since he hadn't seen me, there was no chance he was knocking at my door. On top of that, no one had rung my room from downstairs asking for entrance, meaning that whoever was knocking was probably one of my new neighbours.

It was a reasonable conclusion to draw, but it was also the wrong one. When I pulled the door open with a greeting smile, and saw Hibiki looking down at me with a vicious sneer, I felt my heart drop to my toes before my insides turned to ice, freezing my legs into immobility.

"Look what we've got here," he said in his condescending tone, pushing past me and closing and locking the door behind him.

He'd knocked me off balance with his entry into the room, and as I stumbled to regain my posture, I wondered what he was going to do to me that required locking the door so no one could get in. Or was he trying to make sure I couldn't easily get out?

Drawing my chin up, I didn't have to try to look bitter and angry – the feelings came on their own accord, firing up my veins with an adrenaline rush that I sometimes experienced when Yuka was in one of her raging fits. "I don't think I invited you in, Hibiki," I said venomously.

He laughed dryly, looking around the apartment that I'd worked hard to make homey, and I was pleased with it. He, clearly, was not. "Quite the shithole you're living in," he scoffed. "I had to wait nearly two hours downstairs before someone walked in and held the door open for me. Not the best complex. Giving away sexual favours to pay rent?"

I was too angry to be offended, and too proud. "No, actually. I have two jobs. Neither which involve stripping. Sorry to get your hopes up, Hibiki. Now that you've checked up on me, which I'm sure Yuka does not approve of, you can leave. And don't show up here again."

"Your mother hasn't been herself since you left." By that, I knew that he meant she hadn't been in the same in the bedroom. I could tell by the way his eyes got all hungry, like he was deprived of something. "You've caused a lot of trouble."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to be moved by him. "Not much has changed here. I'm still causing trouble, apparently. So go ahead and tell Yuka that I haven't changed and that she doesn't have to worry about me going to the police. I'm happy here. I'm fine by myself. But thanks for the concern," I added sarcastically.

He continued to sneer at me, like he knew some private joke that I wasn't in on. "What kind of daughter abandons her mother?" he taunted.

"Yuka," I emphasized, "does not consider me her daughter. She looked at me like a leech, living off of the embarrassing amount of money she made. She is no more my mother than I am her daughter. And if you really want to, you can tell her that. I'd be a fool to go back there when I've got all of this." I motioned around me, and then paused, knowing this was pushing it. I tilted my head innocently to the side. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were the one that was missing me."

That threw him off.

I came to dislike adrenaline rushes a lot at that moment. They make you feel untouchable, when in fact you are quite touchable. They make you feel like you can say anything that comes to your lips without any consequences, when in fact there are consequences. My adrenaline rush made me step up to Hibiki and jam my finger in his chest.

"That's right, I know," I hissed through my teeth. "I know how you came into my room all of those nights. I wasn't sleeping. I could hear you open my door and creep across the floor and just stand there, staring. And the more often you did it, the more I began to wonder who you were really staying for; Yuka, or me? Lord knows I would have screamed bloody murder if you laid a hand on me. But that's what you wanted, isn't it? To put your hands on me? That's what you stood there talking yourself out of all those nights, because you knew I would know. That's what you want now, isn't it?"

His face darkened, the hunger in his eyes burned. That's when I knew I shouldn't have said anything. This was one of those situations in which one dug their hole deeper. And at this point, I was very, very deep in the hole I'd dug.

He came at me so fast I didn't even have a chance to gasp, not that I would have. If there was one thing I knew about Hibiki, it was that he didn't like to be challenged. Yuka never challenged him; she was submissive. And I would not allow myself to be like Yuka, and gasping would give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd surprised me.

His grip on my arms, just above my elbows, was firm enough to hurt me, but I just gritted my teeth against the pain and glared up at him. My tailbone was pressed against the counter, my back bending awkwardly back, far enough that the back of my head hit the cupboard. He was so close that his legs were flush with mine, his breath that stank of tobacco fanning over my face.

"Is this what you want, you little bitch?"

"No," I shot back. "I want you to take your hands off of me. And then I want you to go home to Yuka and tell her that her little girl is fine, and to never try to find me. And then I want you to remember never to come back here, because if you do, I'll have a restraining order put on you. I'm sorry I'm not there for you to stare at anymore, Hibiki." That last part, of course, was not said with feeling, and was quite sarcastic, because I definitely was not sorry.

He pressed himself closer to me, his unshaven mouth nearing mine. The desire in his creepy eyes was prominent, and I knew that this situation was a bad one to be in, worse than the one I'd been in a week ago at that race car driver party. For a fleeting moment, I wished Natsume or Ruka or Koko would come to the door and come sweeping in like a knight in shining armour. But even I, the Queen of Naivety, was not ignorant enough to believe that things like that actually happened. And I wasn't weak enough to think that I actually needed that.

"The problem," Hibiki breathed, "with apartments like these, is that the people that inhabit them are often hookers and call girls. Have you heard any screaming yet, Mikan? And did the cops show up? No, because no one cares enough to call."

That wasn't true. I hadn't heard anyone screaming because the walls here were actually pretty thick. But I wouldn't tell him that, because then he'd think he could have his way with me without anybody coming to the rescue.

"Imagine, if I stayed awhile." His breath came quicker, like he really was imagining what he could do to me. "I could show you who's in control here. I could show you how my hands can touch every part of you that my eyes have looked at. And then I'd leave you here, broken and crying like the baby you are, and I'd go home and bed Yuka. And she would never know that I had violated her daughter just hours before."

My legs began to quiver with fear at the intensity of his words, but I managed to hold onto my anger long enough to bite out, "You sick bastard."

He lifted me off the ground and swung me around so that my back collided with the table, knocking my empty plate to the ground. It shattered – in the back of my mind I cursed having to replace it – and Hibiki's boots crunched over the shards as he forced me towards my bed, that hungry look growing more savage with each step he took.

"Don't even think about it!" I growled, thrashing in his grip. He dropped me on the bed, on the mattress that suddenly seemed unforgiving. Before he could advance any further, I lashed out with my foot and caught him between the legs, which distracted him enough that I was able to roll onto my stomach and struggle to my knees and begin to crawl across the bed. He recovered quickly, grabbed my ankle and pulled me back, and then fought with me to turn me back over.

He clawed at my clothing. I heard my shirt rip, cursed having to buy a new one, and then freed my hand and decked him in the chin so hard that my knuckles cracked and he went reeling backwards. I pulled my ripped shirt up my shoulder, my breath coming in ragged pants. I struggled to my feet, finding that my legs threatened to wobble.

"This is your last chance to leave before I call the police and charge you for harassment. I'm not one of those girls who is too embarrassed to come forward after something like this. Leave, Hibiki, and don't you dare ever come back here."

Holding onto his chin, he stared hard at me for a minute longer. And then I guess he saw no room for argument, because he actually listened, turning around and walking to the door. Before he walked into the hallway, he looked back at me and spat on the floor, and then the door closed between us and I collapsed to the floor in relief.

I didn't call in sick that night because I was far too scared to be alone in my apartment, which was ridiculous because I'd worked so hard to have a safe place to stay and being scared of it wouldn't do me any good. Convinced that I just needed some time away to cool off, I left for work at the bar on legs that still felt weak with the remnants of fear and shock.

I tried to keep my mind off of it, but every time I thought of how close he'd come, and of all the things he'd said to me, my entire body began to tremble and I had to hold my breath to keep from breaking out in tears in the middle of the bar. I could sometimes feel the warmth at the back of my eyes, the first warning before tears made themselves evident. Somehow, I always stopped them.

After Hibiki had left, I'd stayed on the floor for a very long time, feeling incapable of getting up. When the shock finally wore off, sobs racked my body so hard that eventually I wasn't sure if I was crying from the experience or from the pain of already crying. I might have fallen asleep, or passed out from hyperventilation, but I roused myself at six o'clock and was at work and ready by seven, after cleaning up the spit mixed with blood at the door and the broken plate.

The shirt I'd been wearing was ruined. The seam along the shoulder had been torn, and part of the neckline. Hibiki had tugged so hard on it that the material had bitten into my neck, and I found out later when Anna pointed at my neck questioningly that it had left a long, thin bruise.

I told her I'd been wearing a necklace and it had gotten caught on my shirt when I was taking it off, and broke the chain in the process. She bought it, and when I got home that night I studied the mark in the broken mirror and discovered that that was exactly what it looked like.

Despite the fact that I did feel better walking into the apartment at three thirty in the morning, I couldn't bring myself to sleep on my bed. Not when I knew what might have occurred there if I hadn't gotten my hand free and hit Hibiki hard enough to get him off of me. So instead, I pulled the blanket that had come from home off the bed, positioned a pillow under my head on the floor, and fell asleep there, where I was dragged into nightmares so dark, twice I awoke screaming.

I had to buy a new white shirt in the morning. I was obviously not pleased with this, because that meant unnecessary money being spent. I had to get a long sleeved shirt, too, because bruises were forming on my arms above my elbows where Hibiki had gripped me, and on my wrists where he'd tried to pin me down. I didn't have a good explanation for them, so I had to cover them up.

I didn't really feel a whole lot better walking to work that morning. I felt tired and sick and like someone had vacuumed the life out of me. Koko noticed the moment I walked in.

"Not feeling any better?"

I thought about putting up a charade and pretending I was dandy, but I was exhausted and didn't think I could keep it up. I settled for using his excuse.

"I must have caught a bug," I lied. "I'm mostly over it now. Just a twenty four hour thing, I think. Sorry for bailing early on you."

He grinned. "That's all right. I had someone come in early. Daichi was a little upset he missed you, though. He should be coming in today." He glanced at the clock and sighed. "And Hotaru will most likely come in."

"Twelve on the dot," I said. I offered him a smile I think turned out well, and then threw on an apron and grabbed a tray and got to work.

The more I worked, the easier it was to forget that anything had ever gone wrong here. But occasionally I still found myself glancing out the big windows as more truckers arrived, half expecting Hibiki to return to taunt me some more. But with my threat to call the police hanging in the distance between us, I was confident that he'd stay away, at least for a little while.

Hotaru came in at twelve o'clock on the dot and ordered me to buy her lunch to make up for not buying it last week. I rolled my eyes and got her a free lunch, since I had a discount anyway that apparently entitled me to a hundred percent off any order. Despite her constant remarks about my stupidity, I think she and I were well on our way to friendship, and that insight allowed me to have a slightly better afternoon.

A few times I caught myself going to roll up my sleeves. Yome's wasn't air conditioned and it was hot outside in the blazing sun, but any time I looked down to roll up those sleeves and saw the bruises peeking out from underneath the white material, I caught my breath and pulled them to my palms.

I did, however, find that the longer I stayed in this environment that I loved, the easier it was to be like my usual self. The worry eventually seeped out of me, and I was bouncing from table to table like I had been yesterday before Hibiki's arrival.

"Hey, Mik!" Daichi came in around two o'clock, sitting one over from his usual seat, which was occupied by a middle aged man talking on a cell phone. "I missed you yesterday! Heard you were looking a little green."

I smiled, sliding him his usual cup of coffee. "I'm much better now. Just a twenty four hour thing, you know?"

"You've been up and at 'em often enough that I figured it was a ticking time bomb, you catching a bug. What do you suppose it was? The flu? Because if it was, you get your paws off my coffee." But he said it with a grin and I knew he was kidding. "You seen the brooding lad lately?"

I actually paused at this remark, and then swallowed a laugh at his description. "Natsume? No. Have you?"

"He was in here the other night when Koko was off," he said. "He sat right next to me here and we had a nice little chat. I brought you up, and he gets all silent and, well, brooding. Figured something must have gone down between you."

I waved my hand dismissively, even though he was bang on. "He's just being himself. He probably gets annoyed by even conversation about me, and therefore elects to stay quiet. I think I'm too energetic for his liking; I believe I give him headaches."

Daichi hooted with laughter. "I don't know how anyone could pass up a chance to be your friend, Mik. You've charmed this whole café. Even Hotaru is mildly amused by your antics. Natsume's no different. He's just too stubborn to realize it himself."

That'll be the day, I scoffed inwardly, and then to Daichi, with a smile, "Oil and water, Daichi. Natsume and I just don't mix."

"Or gasoline and fire," he countered. "Explosive when they mix."

I rolled my eyes at him to humour him, and then did another round of the dining area before retiring to the back, but suddenly I couldn't erase the feeling of Natsume's mouth on mine, how pleasure had shot from my toes to my head and how that wasn't the sort of thing that came from 'not mixing'. I hadn't thought about it for days. In fact, I'd been consciously not thinking about it.

It was the most disillusioned conclusion I'd ever drawn; part of me – the strictly female and completely primal part of me – was attracted to Natsume.

To justify this, I decided it was reasonable to say that it was fair that any woman would be physically attracted to him. Because he was good looking. And maybe it hadn't hit me until he kissed me, but there was attraction between us that I planned to evade.

After all, just because my body liked his body, did not mean I liked him.

Two more employees, a girl named Yuri and some boy that looked fourteen, came in near three o'clock to replace both Koko and I. Daichi left shortly before us, promising to stop in again next week, and then Koko and I walked out together.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, Mikan?" he asked, standing on the sidewalk under the warm sun.

I wanted to badly to roll up my sleeves. "I'm fine, Koko," I said, feigning confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He stared at me a moment longer, shook his head, and then said under his breath, "Terrible liar. See you tomorrow, Mikan!"

Koko kept telling me I was a terrible liar. And suddenly, I knew. There was no point in keeping my life from him; he knew. He'd seen through my lies right from the very start. Maybe he didn't know exactly what I was doing here, but he sure as hell knew I was never living with my aunt, and he knew that I wasn't planning on going to school.

It felt to me like these people I'd known for two weeks knew me better than anybody from my old life ever did.

I opened as many windows as there were in my apartment when I got back to it, and then I changed into a tank top and laid on my floor beside my bed, staring at the ceiling and deciding that I should probably invest in a fan for these humid, hot days. At the same time, I was contemplating moving back onto my bed, convinced that there was no reason I shouldn't sleep on it.

I mean, really, wasn't I being a little immature?

Groaning, I turned over onto my side. My back was already damp with sweat, my hair sticking to my face and neck. "That's it," I grumbled to myself, sitting up abruptly. "A fan is a necessity."

I walked – in a sweater – to the Wal-Mart ten minutes from the apartment and spent twenty minutes in the air conditioned building reading the box of each fan and then picking the cheapest one that I thought would last the longest. I wasn't an expert on fans, so I wasn't entirely confident in my choice.

To my extreme surprise, the teller I went to was that of a girl with extravagant hair and a look on her face that wasn't quite a scowl but wasn't quite friendly. She didn't look surprised to see me, and she laughed when she saw what I was carrying.

"Ha! You really feel it on days like these, hey? Not having an air conditioner? Hate to break it to you, honey, but that's not going to do you much good."

I grinned. "Misaki. The apartment is fabulous. I can tough out the heat; I don't spend enough time there to bother with any fancy air conditioning systems."

She snorted, ringing the box through. "The air conditioner would probably cost more than the apartment. Did you cover that hole in the wall?"

"Yep. Cheap painting."

"That's my girl, taking advice from her elders. You paying on debit?"

I flashed her my debit card and waited for her go ahead to swipe it. "The toilet's being a little more difficult. I'm going to have to get a new one if I ever want to fix it. I have a friend that's keeping an eye at the hardware store for any sales on toilets." I punched in my pin number and waited for it to process. It was really ridiculous, but even though I knew I had more than enough money, it was nerve-racking waiting for APPROVED to pop up on the screen.

"Mikan! Hey!"

I looked up, surprised to see Tsubasa making his way over from the self-checkouts, wearing the same blue shirt as Misaki. She rolled her eyes at his approach, but I could see the ghost of a smile that tugged on her lips. He went to put his arm around her, but she jabbed him hard in the ribs with a hissed, "Not at work."

I clasped my hands together under my chin. "You guys work together? That's so sweet!"

Tsubasa gave Misaki a look that said he felt exactly the same. "We met here. She just started working and she purposely knocked a tower of paper towel on me and then blamed me for it." He studied me. "Mikan, why in the hell are you wearing a sweater?"

I looked down at myself, and then smiled sheepishly. "Waited till the last minute to do my laundry. I didn't have anything to wear."

He fanned himself with his hand. "I think I'd rather wear nothing than wear a sweater!"

"Of course you would," Misaki said dryly, elbowing him again. "Get out of here. You're scaring customers. Do you want a bag, Mikan?"

I shook my head, gathering the fan in my arms. "No thanks. See you guys later!"

I held my breath before stepping outside, dreading the moment the heat enveloped me and made me sweat profusely beneath my thick sweater. By the time I shut myself in my apartment, where there was not much difference in the temperature, I was panting and groaning as I struggled out of my sweater.

For three hours, I lay in my bed with the fan sitting on one of the chairs from the table beside me, blowing on my face. I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was due to an abrupt knock on the door.

My heart leapt into my throat while my mind, still groggy from sleep, tried to process any possible reason that Hibiki might be back. I scrambled to my feet, looking around the room for something I could use as a weapon just in case it was him. As I was about to make for the kitchen to grab a spatula, an unmistakable growl came from the other side of the door.

"Open the damn door, Polka Dots."

My initial reaction was shock, and then panic as I looked down at myself and saw that I was still in a tank top. "Just one moment!" I called, running for my bed and tearing through the sheets for the sweater I'd discarded. I pulled it on while hurrying to the door.

Natsume did not wait for an invitation. As soon as I opened the door a crack, he was throwing it the rest of the way open and stepping inside, slamming it closed behind him before turning his fiery gaze on me. I didn't have a chance to comprehend why he looked so angry before he reached for my arms and pulled the sleeves of my sweater up.

I gasped in surprise and pulled my arms away, but he'd already seen the purpling bruises that would match the size of Hibiki's fingers.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded.

"I think a better question is, how did you get up here without ringing me first to let you in, and how did you know this was my room?"

He didn't answer. He just stared at me, waiting for me to crack under the pressure of his strangely coloured eyes. It took several moments for me to process his presence here before it clued in what he thought this was about.

"Relax," I chided. "Reo didn't touch me. None of Persona's guys did. This was personal. Koko thought something was up, didn't he? How'd he get you to come check on me? Last I checked, I was the plague and you were doing everything you could to not catch me."

His teeth were gritted again, like he was frustrated. "Who did it?"

"It's none of your business," I said, mocking the tone he always used when he said the same words to me.

"This isn't time for games, Polka. Who did it?"

I tilted my chin up, but it didn't help me hold onto pride when my eyes were burning. He could tell, I knew he could. "It's nothing, all right? He was just trying to scare me."

"Who was?"

"What does it matter to you? And how the hell did you get up here?"

"Lock's broken," he said, skipping my first question.

"And how did you know this was my room?"

"Anything Persona knows, I know. Who did this?" He grabbed my hand, shoving my sleeve back and revealing the bruises once again.

I shook my head, refusing to answer. No, refusing to say anything because the moment I opened my mouth I knew that everything would come out, whether I wanted him to hear it or not. The silence hung between us, my mouth stubbornly closed and his eyes irresistibly convincing. His hand remained on the door, telling me that he didn't plan on leaving until I told him what had gone on here.

Sighing, I turned and headed for the kitchen sink, where my dirty plate from dinner sat, unwashed. Seeing no need for the sweater anymore, I pulled it over my head and tossed it over the chair remaining at the table. He stayed at the door, watching me as I ran water over the plate and squeezed the orange-scented soap on it.

"It was my mom's boyfriend, all right?" I said finally, shutting off the tap. "I didn't know that he was a trucker, so I didn't expect him to show up at Yome's. I didn't think he saw me, but he followed me here and waited until someone came in and held the door downstairs for him. Guess he didn't know the lock was broken."

"And you let him in," Natsume deadpanned.

I shot him a glare. "I didn't let you in either and yet there you are, dirtying my doormat with your bad attitude." When he just stared at me, I sighed again. "I let my mouth run a little. He's always creeped me out, and I brought it to his attention that I'd always known. He wanted to take it one step further." I closed my eyes against tears. "The things he said to me…God, they were awful."

"Stupid girl," he muttered. "Hibiki Ito."

I looked up, stunned. "What? How did you know?"

"Persona deals to him. He's got his own business."

A lot of things went through my head at once, but I managed to sputter, "That's why Persona's keeping track of me, isn't it? Because he thinks I'm part of Hibiki's business?"

His nod was barely noticeable. "Once he finds out you aren't, he'll leave you alone. If you stay away from your mom and Hibiki, Persona will lose interest in you."

I snorted, but the sound was weak in my throat and hard to force out. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going home, and Yuka won't come looking for me. Thanks, Natsume. And I'm sorry about last week. Really. I keep forgetting to remind myself that 'curiosity kills the cat'."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, like I hadn't even spoken. Glancing at the time, he pulled the door open. "Don't push my patience."

"Wait! Where are you going?" Catching his look, I let my shoulders drop. "A race. Can I come?"

"No."

"Why not? Now that I know Persona isn't interested in me because of you, what's the problem? I can pretend I'm one of those skanky girls. Like Luna! Not that she's a skank. She just dresses like one. Except I'll have to wear a sweater. I don't want to broadcast to the world-"

The door slammed shut, and just like that, Natsume was gone.

A/N: So now that Mikan's past has been completely brought to light, we can move on from the dark and dreary stuff! I'm sorry if anything that was implied offended anyone, but there's really no point in sugarcoating it. Stuff like this happens. It shouldn't, but it does. And it almost happened to Mikan! Cheers for her having a backbone of steel and holding her own!

Until next time!

xo.