Updated! Thanks for reading, and I've got no more to say, really.

Enjoy the chapter.

"Fuck!" Natsume yelled, and there were a number of things which could have caused it.

It could be because he didn't make it off the train in time and had to watch Mikan walk away from him.

It could be because he did make it off the train, but she had already gone and he couldn't find her, so he was stranded at a station miles from his house without any way of getting home.

It could also be because he'd stuck his arm in a closing door.

"Son of a bitch!" he swore as the doors clamped down on his forearm and people around made empathetic 'that's gotta hurt' hisses. The doors pumped again, and sent another jolt of excruicating pain through his trapped limb, and then they finally released, and he staggered onto the platform gripping his arm.

She better still be there.

"Natsume!" Thankfully, she was. Mikan vaulted over the barriers and ran over to him; knelt on the platform cradling his throbbing arm. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Uh… being stupid," he groaned, and snatched his injured arm away from her when she tried to look at it.

"Don't be a baby!" she snapped, and pulled his arm out, running her hands over the red strip-marks gently.

"Oow!" he moaned, and she just made clicking sounds with her tongue at him.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, and his eyes found the floor.

"I…" he slurred, "I'm drunk?"

"Drunk and?" She knew there was something more to it than that.

"Drunk… and... I said I was going to make sure you got home," he muttered, "it's past midnight already... and it's..." Mikan stared at him for a few moments, and then heaved a sigh.

"How?" she asked herself pitiably.

"Eh?"

"How are you always two things at once?"

"I'm not…"

"A complete asshole one minute, and then you throw yourself into closing doors the next, because it's dangerous for me to go home alone. If you were going to be nice then why did you start saying all those horrible things?"

"I can't tell how you're going to react to what I say," he retorted in frustration, "I don't understand you at all." He didn't like to admit this, but it was true.

"You don't understand anyone, Natsume, not even yourself," she huffed, "you just think you do."

"I do!" he protested, and then found himself dragged to his feet as she stood up – pulling him along with her.

"You just look at the surface," she complained as they powered along, "you judge people before you even know them."

"I've known people more than enough," he sniped, and she tightened her hand around his swelling arm and he genuinely yelped.

"You don't know them at all," she replied tiredly, "but you're never going to realize it until you find out for yourself… so, just…just shut up... and let's go." She dragged the two of them through the barriers, shivering as they hit the cold night air. She didn't want to get into any more arguments, so she hoped that by not talking about things would buy them a temporary peace; she could make him understand…

When? When was she planning to do that? When she was going out with him?

He noticed her shivering, and without speaking took his uninjured arm, grabbed her hand, and then put it into his pocket – he could warm a hand at least.

"Um, no really I'm…" she attempted, but he wouldn't let her go, and eventually she gave up.

"Your hands are really warm," she said after a while.

"It's my Alice," he replied edgily, "I'm always running a temperature."

"Really?" She knew there were some weird side-effects to Alices, but that was probably one of the oddest she'd heard yet.

"I wouldn't make something like that up, would I?" he said tersely, and Mikan dropped the subject; Alices were, and always would be, something no one who had them really liked to talk about.

Well, no one like them, at least. People who had good Alices maybe.

Too bad they weren't good.

Eventually they arrived at her house, both almost sober now and Natsume's arm only aching with a dull throb.

"Well… we're here," Mikan said nervously, and watched Natsume tip his head to look past her into the house – lights all turned out. He didn't bother asking, because he assumed that her mom would be in bed.

"You can get in, right?" he asked, and Mikan nodded after a pause. "Okay, then," he said, "bye… I guess."

"How will you get home?" she asked timidly, and he shrugged.

"Ruka lives around here, I think, so I'll probably see if I can crash there." He said it like it was something he'd done a few times before, and Mikan didn't want to think about the circumstances that had brought about those times. Not when he was pretending to be a decent person for a while.

"Okay… you'll be all right, then?"

"I'll be fine, I've…" done it before is what he was going to say, but he left it unsaid – not that Mikan didn't clock it.

"Goodnight, then," she said awkwardly; somehow they'd managed to come full circle and end up exactly where they started, and then Natsume changed that by closing his hand around her shoulder just as she turned to walk to open her door.

She had, at that moment, absolutely no idea what he was going to do; he could do anything. So she took a breath and simply waited.

He leant over her shoulder, curling around the shape of her neck, until his face was almost level with hers; he turned inwards and his lips came lightly into contact with her cheek. He let go of a breath afterwards, and it blew warm steam over the recently-pecked cheek.

"Goodnight," he said quietly, and then he, and the warmth that accompanied him, was gone.

Mikan informed her heart that it shouldn't beat like that if it knew what was good for it. It was just a goodnight kiss. And he was horrible, and mean, nasty, rude, arrogant and...

She couldn't stay away.

Natsume wandered around the vaguely familiar streets for half an hour or so, and then when he came across a landmark he recognised, but still had no idea where he was, he gave up and called Ruka.

"Natsume? What the fuck?" his friend moaned sleepily, and nearly hung up the phone, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "but... you know what it's like." Ruka knew, Natsume had done this more than once – called him in the middle of the night, lost, needing directions or a place to sleep: usually both.

"Fine," he groaned, "where are you?" He reluctantly got out of bed and put on a dressing gown, giving Natsume directions to his house as he unlocked his front door. Natsume was only about five minutes walk away, as it turned out: he was just terrible at finding places in the dark.

"So, who was she?" Ruka asked wearily as he opened the door to him.

"No one special," he muttered defensively, and walked inside quickly.

"...You haven't had sex tonight," Ruka observed as he passed him, and Natsume froze. The fact that Ruka could tell that was just a little creepy, let alone the fact that he was right.

"So?" he clipped.

"I was just saying," he replied casually, and then on a totally unrelated note added, "the spare bed's empty, as usual."

"Thanks," Natsume murmured as he kicked off his shoes and wandered into the hall.

"So who was she? She must be special if you're out this late but you didn't get her into bed," Ruka remarked, and Natsume found himself even more unwilling to answer. He didn't want to admit he'd been chasing a girl who outsmarted him half the time, who made him injure himself like an idiot, who he'd only kissed but he felt closer to than anyone he'd been with, including Yuri.

"Just… someone," he muttered, and then quickly left with the excuse of being sleepy.

The next day, in spite of his feeling sober when he went to bed, he still managed to wake up with a slight hangover.

"Were you drinking last night?" Ruka asked scathingly in the morning. It was one thing for Natsume to be out all night chasing skirt, but out drinking?

"Well, yeah," he replied groggily, a cup of tea clasped tightly in his hands. "So?"

"She must be really special."

"She's not!" he snapped, and Ruka raised his eyebrows at the confession.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a 'you've-said-she's-not-special-so-really-she-probably-is' kind of way.

"She's… she's just…" he stuttered, trying desperately to find the words, "she's… different." He finally settled, and Ruka only hummed as if to say 'I see' and turned back to a mirror to finish styling his hair; he was going to have to re-bleach it soon, his roots were starting to show. His natural colour was quite light, but it was beginning to become too obvious.

"Is she at school?" he inquired, but when he looked around Natsume was already gone; heading toward the door and looking to leave.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," he said covertly, "things are still a bit…"

"What? What do you mean? You're not gonna, like, date her or something, are you?" Ruka said disbelievingly.

"Uh…" Natsume recalled his exchange with Mikan last night, and realized that even if his pride was a little battered for it, he was still interested in going out with her. He knew that just once wouldn't be enough, and he even wanted more than just 'fuck buddies' with her – he wanted the whole deal.

"Maybe, I guess," he shrugged as Ruka caught up to him going out the door, and he heard his friend's noise of surprise.

"Wow, she really must be special…" he said quietly.

"Look, I said I didn't want to talk about it!" Natsume snapped just a little meaner than he meant to. "Sorry," he muttered quickly – Ruka he had no problems apologising to because he was an equal. "Hangover, yeah?"

"No problem," Ruka replied amiably, "it's just weird to think of you actually liking a girl enough to date her."

"Tell me about it," Natsume scoffed, and Ruka joined in with the depreciating laughter.

He had hoped to see her that day at school, but from what he could find out Mikan had taken the day off. At least he didn't think about something happening to her the night before, because he was the night before, and he'd seen her go into her house, but he did wonder why she was absent.

So, not one to like waiting for things, but without any other choice, he had to go without seeing her and pushing his proposition.

She was in the next day, Natsume saw her in the canteen, but she was with friends and they left very quickly, so he didn't get an opportunity to get to her. Although it was unusual for her to approach him, he knew the pecking order would never let him live it down if he went up to her when she was with her friends, and he had to stay put.

It was at this point that he decided things were getting ridiculous, as she wasn't coming into the Library either, and his work was beginning to suffer because he was distracted all the time; it was still good, but no longer perfect.

Mikan was eating lunch on Wednesday with Sumire and some other girls when her phone went off, and opening the message whilst she chatted, she broke off mid-sentence when she recognised the sender.

Look behind you.

Was the only thing it said, and she whipped her head around, catching sight of a guy a few tables behind with a phone in one hand and his chin resting on the other; he had his glasses on today.

He lifted his head off his hands and turned his palm to face her, and then wiggled his fingers in a scathing 'coo-ee' kind of wave. Mikan tried not to go red as she remembered her all-too vivid memories of kissing him; it was good kissing. Disgustingly so.

What do you want?

She messaged back quickly, and watched him read it and break out into a smirk. Barely seconds after recieving the message her phone went off again, just one word inside the message.

You.

He was still looking at her, and Mikan felt an odd sensation of talking to the real him while he was in the fake him's body. In school he tailored all his actions towards being percieved as an ordinary work-a-day dork, but it was no dork she made out with on a train, or got walked home by, or was given toe-curling goodnight kisses by.

She half considered making him come over and say that to her face, but Mikan realized that would mean she'd blow her cover with Sumire and the other girls, who, now their secrets had been ousted, were all embarking on a 'Hyuga has a split-personality and is a jerk' campaign; she agreed with both of those statements; however, she didn't happen to hate him, and had been making out with him earlier that week. She wished she did hate him, it would make things so much easier, but try as she might she couldn't.

I have detention today, after school to talk?

She messaged back guiltily, and he got up and walked out of the hall, but before he was out of the doors, she had a new message.

I'll be in the Library, x

She shouldn't have felt the warm bubbly feeling that she felt reading that, particularly at the 'x' at the end, but unfortunately she did. She was going soft on him, and it'd barely been a week.

"Who are you texting, Mikan?" Sumire demanded, and she immeaditely buried her phone in her bag.

"No one!" she yelped, and her friends gave her suspicious looks.

"Who?! Let me see!" Sumire squealed excitedly and began to try and steal Mikan's phone.

"No one!" she shrieked while laughing.

"Is this the reason you've been 'busy' so much?" Sumire teased.

"I've really been busy!" she protested, scrambling up from her seat and keeping her phone and bag clear from her pursuers.

"Busy getting your groove on!" Sumire teased, and Mikan flushed and playfully hit her.

"I have not!" she insisted, and began to run away, Sumire following her with wild laughter.

"Don't you lie to me, girl!" she yelled, "I can see right through you, you know! You're transparent to me!" It wasn't long before they had just started causing a scene and making noise simply for the sake of it, and thankfully for Mikan, Sumire appeared to have forgotten why she had started chasing her in the first place.

Also giving her cover was the detention - Sumire didn't have one, so she didn't think it was unusual for Mikan not to be able to go part of the way home with her. Mikan wasn't never going to tell her about Natsume, she just wanted to wait for a little while until things... settled, before she told her.

She wanted to work out what was going on herself, before she started telling other people.

When she entered the Library late after school that day, Natsume wasn't behind the desk like he usually was, but stretched out a chair with a book in his hand.

"You turned up, then," he said dryly as he registered her presence.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you might have bottled," he remarked, "changed your mind about me or something."

"Why would I do that?" she said curiously as she slowly shuffled in his direction, pouring herself into a chair near the one he was sitting on.

"Second thoughts?" he suggested, "Realized you didn't want to go out with a dork like me–"

"You keep saying that, but it's not that you I'm interes–" She stopped herself; admitting she was interested in him felt like sticking her head in a lion's mouth and just hoping it wasn't going to bite it off.

"Go on," he prompted as he closed his book and sat up, a half-smirk on his face, "what were you going to say?"

"Well," she murmured, "all this." She waved her hands around as if to gesture toward the library and everything it stood for. "It's not really you, is it?" Natsume shrugged. "And… the manipulative player, that's not really you either," she added, and he leaned forward, interested.

"You act hard-headed and uncaring because it's the easiest way to be," she speculated, "but… sometimes I get the impression that somewhere I'm seeing the real you… and that's…" She broke off as suddenly he was out of his seat, hands braced on either side of her chair, leaving over her predatorily.

"That's?" he echoed quietly, staring straight down at her in an almost frightening way.

"That's… the guy I'd go out with," she finished, less than a breath in her lungs, and then even that was stolen as his arms buckled and his mouth plummeted down on top of hers. He simultaneously lifted a hand to tip her head back and give him access to her lips, and then he stroked his fingers back down her neck as he kissed her deeply.

They came apart a few moments later, breathless, and Mikan raised a hand to run over her neck where he'd touched her; his hands were always so warm.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he practically moaned; running the tip of his tongue along his lips.

"Are you asking?"

"I'm asking."

"What are you asking for?" she probed, wanting him to properly say it, and now when they'd had a few drinks first.

He paused, Natsume knew he could say it, but he had to hold himself for a few moments to build it – he'd have to do it on a snap impulse.

He took a short breath, and then.

"Go out with me."

"And?"

"Be my girlfriend." Mikan smiled as if to say 'good boy' in a self-satisfactory way, and then pushed herself out of her seat a little way to press her lips softly against his.

"Alright then," she replied, and even Natsume couldn't help a smile.

Albeit a temporary one.

"…But I have a few conditions."

The last line is obviously Mikan, and I was just under-quota on this, and then trying to meet that ran totally overquota. OOPS.

Oh well, a long chapter is always nice, especially if it ends on a good note.

Such good notes are worthy of a few reviews, are they not?

:P