Look, a quick update! Isn't everyone proud of me?

I'm really shit at writing emotional scenes I'm sorry I'm such a failure please bear it.

CHAPTER NINE :: She's Up To Something

"Ah, Sensei," a young nurse called down the empty corridor. He jogged up to the pretty man and asked, "Can I speak to you for a moment please?"

Narumi looked at him, perplexed. "Okay."

He glanced around hesitantly at the students mulling around. "In private?"

Lilac eyes sparked with understanding, and Narumi followed the nurse into his office. He shut the door behind him quietly. "Yes? Is this about my appointment last week? It really wasn't my fault I had to cancel-"

"No, it isn't." The nurse was wringing his hands. "It's about... one of your students."

That shut Narumi up.

"You see, I... I don't want to make amateur guesses at random and then get him into a lot of trouble for no reason, so I want you to know that what I'm saying now isn't fact, but just an observation I've happened to make."

Narumi nodded slowly, the apprehension building in his gut. "I won't tell anyone what you're about to say, if that's what you're worried about. I care about my students and I don't want them in trouble if I can help it."

"Well, Natsume Hyuuga... Whenever he visits the hospital for a routine check-up about his alice, he never eats the food we offer him." He paused. "I mean, that's normal for him, he never eats it because he says hospital food is disgusting... But recently, he's been looking quite thin. He's never been overweight, but he always used to be well-built and muscular, which he isn't anymore - plus over the past few months he's been finding excuses to avoid his monthly physical – which includes checking and recording his weight - so I was thinking maybe it wasn't just hospital food he was avoiding, but food in general... Sudden weight loss such as this added to his deteriorating mood and constant fatigue would suggest – would suggest an eating disorder." The brunet man finished uncertainly but, upon seeing the expression on Narumi's face, added, "I'm not the first to tell you this, am I."

It wasn't a question.

"No, you're not," Narumi sighed, raking a hand through shimmering locks. "But thank you for informing me. I'll take appropriate action." He cast the man a serious glance. "So there's no need to spread the word, hm?"

The nurse caught the hint. "Okay. I'll leave it to you, then."

As soon as the door was shut behind him, Narumi flopped into the nurse's office chair and heaved a long sigh.

Mikan muffled her surprised squeak with her palm as she quickly dived out of sight. Luckily, the nurse seemed too caught up in his own thoughts to notice her as he exited his office and strode down the corridor. She breathed a sigh of relief. Phew, that was close.

Her brow furrowed as she considered what she'd overheard of the conversation. Natsume? An eating disorder?

Memories of skipped lunches and breakfasts and dinners suddenly filled her mind – and she inhaled. Oh. She also remembered Natsume's collapse during gym class – Was that somehow related too? Since he never fainted when we ran before, and then they kept him overnight for observation... She chewed her lip. I thought he just hadn't slept much or was dehydrated or something.

"Mikan."

The soft voice was tinged with an uncharacteristic expression of emotion, and Mikan whipped her head around to see her best friend running her way.

"Hotaru!" she exclaimed from her position crouching against the wall.

Hotaru stopped, panting, in front of her, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief. "You're okay."

Mikan nodded apologetically, suddenly realising she'd left her best friend without knowledge of her whereabouts for an entire day, and she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. "I'm really sorry for not telling you, Hotaru – but I was with You-chan in the elementary dorms all night – I paid him a visit to ask him if he'd noticed anything weird with Natsume, and we started talking – or, rather, I was talking and he was eating and listening sometimes – and so I stayed with him – and he said he's also been worried about Natsume, and thinks he's looked sad recently-"

"You idiot!"

Mikan blinked in shock at the harsh yell that had erupted without warning from the short-haired girl's mouth. She was about to ask her what was wrong when she was suddenly wrapped in Hotaru.

From what she could hear, Hotaru was trying desperately to regulate her breathing, and when Mikan felt a warm dampness on her shoulder she responded to the rare hug without hesitation. "I'm sorry, Hotaru," she whispered.

Hotaru breathed out angrily into her shoulder. "I was worried about you, Mikan," she hissed into the fabric. "Why didn't you tell me where you were going, what you were doing? I could have gone with you, or at least I would've known you weren't in trouble. You're so stupid I wouldn't put it past you to find trouble even here. You could've fallen from the roof, or gotten beaten up and dumped somewhere, or trapped in a tree or something ridiculous like that..."

Mikan couldn't suppress the smile that bloomed on her face at the words. It was a nice feeling, to be cared about. "I'm really sorry," she repeated in a comforting tone as her grip on the taller girl tightened. "Next time, I'll tell you all about it."

"Yes, you will."

The pair stayed like that for a while – long enough for Hotaru's tears to dry – and eventually Hotaru drew back , but remained kneeling on the floor beside Mikan. "If you're investigating Hyuuga now as well," Mikan blinked at the 'as well' – "then there's some information I think you should know."

Mikan waited for her to continue, knowing her best friend didn't like to be interrupted.

"A few days ago, I had a conversation with him about what was going on."

"He told you?!" Mikan exclaimed, chestnut eyes bulging, but Hotaru shushed her irritably.

"No, of course he didn't. I just mentioned to him that you were worried about him, and he started having a go at me."

Mikan looked sceptical however. "I'm sure you did more than 'mention'."

Hotaru narrowed her eyes. "As I was saying, I mentioned the fact to him and he said the most interesting thing."

"What?" Mikan asked eagerly.

"Stop interrupting," Hotaru snapped, and the auburn-haired girl sighed sulkily. "Mikan, do you have any idea about this issue of his?"

Mikan nodded.

"I told him – I'm paraphrasing, of course – that he should be sensible and eat normally, and then he told me that it's 'easy for you to say' and then asked me how I could possibly understand his predicament when 'you stand there looking pretty and thin like that, without even trying'."

Brown eyebrows rose. "He actually said that?" she breathed in disbelief. Natsume had always come across as an arrogant, self-confident jerk, not – not someone with such low self-esteem.

Maybe that mask is deliberate?

"Okay, class! Today we have a special timetable!"

There was a hum of confusion at Narumi's words. A special timetable? That could only mean trouble.

"Misaki-sensei is here to give you a special lesson on keeping healthy for the first two periods – and after that, the rest of the day is free periods!" His grin was far too cheerful for that time in the morning, and every student was immediately suspicious of the circumstances.

Natsume narrowed his eyes. What the fuck is he thinking? "Hey, Ruka," he muttered, and the bored blonde beside him looked up. "You know anything about this?"

Gold locks sparkled in the sunlight streaming into the classroom as they swooshed through the air. It was a resounding no from Ruka.

Natsume huffed. There was definitely something suspicious about this. This 'health lesson' had appeared out of the blue for no apparent reason, taking over all other lessons – and just yesterday, Jinno had informed them of a test on circle theorems that was due to take place today. So he obviously hadn't known of a plan for this... What's going on?

The first section of the lesson was about the benefits of reasonable regular exercise – and the dangers of over-exercising. The second section covered food, and the third covered various diet-related illnesses.

Natsume suddenly realised the entire session was aimed at him.

He had no proof and there was nothing to suggest this, but from the way Misaki's eyes kept flicking to his face – as if to check if he was paying special attention – was an obvious clue, as was the section on over-exertion, especially after the fainting incident.

So the teachers have noticed? he thought with slight panic. They wouldn't understand – they'd think he was being irresponsible and 'a danger to himself' – as Misaki had just described it on the slide on eating disorders – but he only wanted to lose a bit of weight. Just enough so he wouldn't feel big and stupid when he hung around with skinny Ruka. But if the teachers found out, they'd stick him in the hospital and drip-feed him glucose through his arm and call him 'mentally ill'.

Natsume shivered at the thought.

No, I can't let them find out. I've got to start being less obvious about it.

He glanced at the girl beside him. Natsume had expected her to totally zone out, or fall asleep or something – but she was wide awake and watching the presentation with interest. In fact, she almost looked twitchy and a bit antsy. What's up with her?

Mikan had been acting weirdly ever since she'd turned up from her mysterious disappearance last week. She'd been somewhat quiet and subdued, as if in deep thought, and she was picking at her food and sighing an awful lot. Ruka had suggested that approaching Mikan about his issues would calm her and stop her worrying about him so much, but it seemed to have just made her worse.

Natsume sighed. Such an idiot.

Mikan glanced again at Natsume's profile. He seemed to be watching closely, but if she stared long enough, it turned out he wasn't really watching the presentation at all, and was in fact scrutinising Misaki himself. His eyes were narrowed.

Is he on to me? she thought worriedly. She bit her lip. If he finds out I suggested a healthy-eating lesson to Narumi-sensei he'd go berserk. Probably set him on fire to destroy the evidence, or something.

Natsume puffed out a mocking laugh at something Misaki said.

Mikan sighed.

The dissatisfaction swirled, prominent, in the scarlet irises. Natsume let out a deep growl of a sigh as he took in his reflection above the sink. He looked even worse today than he did yesterday – I suppose it was the mission that did it – with large purple smudges under his eyes, making his skin appear even more ghost-like. Where were Imai's cheekbones? Where was Ruka's waistline? Where was Mochiage's tan?

He was just himself, Natsume.

A sudden burst of anger thrust his fist into the glass, which promptly cracked – I didn't realise I could do that – followed by a deep, sharp pain in his knuckles.

He withdrew his hand with a hiss and cradled it tentatively with the other. Three knuckles were bleeding – not serious wounds, but enough for it to bleed a lot. There was blood on the fractured mirror and on his shirt, where streams of it had trickled down his hand and wrist.

Jesus, it's bleeding a lot.

He quickly made it out of the bathroom and headed towards the nurse's office. I need to get this patched up.

It didn't hurt particularly badly, but Natsume was worried about the blood loss. There was an awful lot of red on both hands and he realised he must look a right state – but he didn't care. He was beginning to feel a little light-headed, and he knew that low blood pressure plus a badly bleeding wound didn't equal good things.

He was just down the corridor from the nurse's office when his vision began to blur, and the last thing he was aware of was the beige flooring zooming towards his face.

Mikan was – again – lost in thought about Natsume's well-being. She was so distracted, in fact, that she decided to just wander the halls instead of having pleasant conversation with Anna and Nonoko. She didn't want more comments about whether she was okay or not – it was Natsume they should be worrying about, not her.

But she didn't tell them that, because she knew Natsume would only get worse if she told everyone about it. She had to find a way – a quiet way – to get him to eat more and gradually improve his self-image. Publically embarrassing him was not the way forward.

She had just turned the corner into the far eastern corridor when she saw him. A dark-haired boy, lying haphazardly on the ground, his clothes drenched in blood.

"Oh my god," she breathed to herself as she sprinted up to him. "Are you okay?" she asked him in a panic, rolling him onto his back to check his breathing-

She paused. It was Natsume.

It a flash, he was on her back and Mikan was jogging down the corridor to the nurse's office. Luckily it wasn't too far away, because Mikan wasn't used to giving piggy-backs and he was quite a lot heavier than a schoolbag.

"Excuse me?" she called at the door, since her hands were occupied keeping the unconscious Natsume from falling off.

A short, plump woman quickly opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight before her. Mikan vaguely realised they must look a mess, since she was probably also smeared with his blood – but she decided she didn't have time for hesitancy so she shoved past the lady and deposited the boy on the patient bed. The nurse seemed unfazed by the rudeness and quickly asked her what happened.

"I don't – I don't know," she stammered, a hand mussing up her hair with anxiety as the nurse checked he was breathing. "I was just taking a walk and I f-found him on the floor, in the corridor, just – completely unconscious and bleeding and – is he okay? Is he alive?" she said, words tumbling out of her mouth and tripping over each other in her hurry to say them.

The nurse patted her on the shoulder lightly with a comforting smile. "Don't worry, he's fine. Just unconscious. It seems he's lost a lot of blood, but he's managed to get it all over himself – and you, by the looks of it – so I'll find the source of it and staunch the bleeding, and then give him a transfusion."

Mikan wasn't really concentrating on the words, but the voice sounded calm, so she trusted the elderly woman. She half-collapsed into a chair as the woman went to work checking his legs, his stomach, his back, his arms – "Ah. I see."

She rinsed his hand in cold water before dabbing it dry, but by the time she'd brought the gauze over from the counter, blood was already resurfacing. She handed a cloth to Mikan. "Press this to the wound firmly. It'll stop the bleeding. I've got to get someone from the hospital wing – I'm not qualified to do stitches."

Mikan nodded and the woman left, and Mikan was alone with Natsume. She sat on the side of the padded table and applied pressure to the wound, as instructed.

She wasn't sure how much time had elapsed, but before the nurse showed any sign of reappearing with a doctor, crimson eyes blinked groggily open. "Hn...?" he groaned and his brow furrowed, as if he had a horrible headache.

"Natsume?!"

Mikan's panicked voice pulled him quickly into consciousness. He glanced around, and Mikan felt she could die of a heart attack right then and there.

"Mikan?" he asked, his voice raspy. "Where...?"

"The nurse's office," Mikan said quickly. "I found you collapsed on the floor and you were bleeding loads so I brought you here, and she said you're going to be alright but you'll need stitches and a blood transfusion – Natsume, no! Stop, you can't stand up yet!"

The boy winced as he sat up on the bed. Mikan wasn't quite calm enough to force him to lie back down, even when he pulled his injured hand out of her grip and looked rather unstable on his feet. She stood up with him and clutched his shoulder in case he fell again.

"Why did you bring me here? I could've just gone back to my room, I have a first aid kit there," he muttered as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet.

"You can't give yourself stitches, Natsume!" Mikan shouted from a few feet behind him, her voice rough from unshed tears. "It would've been stupid not to come here! You're injured!"

Natsume whipped around and glared sharply at her, though his gaze was far from cold or icy. "I don't need your help. I'm fine on my own." He turned back around, as if finding painkillers was more important than the girl behind him, and it was all Mikan could do not to hit him and tell him how stupid he was. She gritted her teeth.

"But I want to help, Natsume!" she retorted desperately, hands balled in fists at her sides.

"Why?"

"Because I care about you!"

There was a pause thick with tension. Emotions were heated in the air around them as Mikan anxiously waited for a reply. There was no way he couldn't have heard her – she'd practically screamed it into his ear. If Natsume turned around now and said something – something rude, or mocking – if he said something casually insulting or brushed it off completely like he usually did – Mikan was scared to know what sort of emotions she would feel. She'd made herself entirely vulnerable, and if he shot her down now, with that perfect aim of his –

"You can't possibly care about a piece of shit like me."

Mikan's breath caught in her throat. Natsume made to leave, but she rushed up to him and did the first thing she thought of – she grabbed him from behind, wrapping her arms under his and clutching his torso tightly. She felt him tense, but he didn't pull away, so she buried her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like Natsume – clean, like soap, but also of something darker – like the scent of fields after the rain. Cold and earthy.

Natsume said nothing, even when her slender hands roamed his stomach and chest.

"You've gotten thinner," Mikan whispered into his skin, hating the feeling of his ribs, prominent even through his shirt. It scared her – would they just become more visible? Would brittle bones replace the warm, strong muscle that once lay under his skin? Would she, one time in the future, feel his chest and feel a skeleton, hardly even alive?

"Don't," Natsume replied, his voice hoarse, and Mikan let out a sob she didn't realise she'd been suppressing, and felt tears she didn't realise she'd been shedding. "Please don't cry."