A/N: I don't own Alice Gakuen.

Chapter Ten: Together

Having spent much of the rest of the evening 'christening' their flat, Mikan and Natsume woke up rather later than what they had aimed for. Their lateness was then extended by Natsume, who, when they were still in bed, very sweetly asked Mikan if she wanted him to kiss her below the waist. She couldn't possibly say no to that face, or to that silver tongue.

A few hours later, Natsume and Mikan walked out of the furniture store to the car park, each pushing a trolley filled with bags of new household goods along, happy with their many purchases. Mikan especially liked their matching mugs, and that fluffy, grey blanket they had bought. She thought about all the cosy nights-in they could spend together on the sofa, intertwined under that blanket. Natsume liked the small tangerine-shaped fridge magnets he had found very much.

Natsume had insisted, at the belted checkout counter, that he would pay for all their new home goods. Mikan tried to protest, but Natsume contended that she had paid for the framework, so he'd pay for everything inside. Reluctantly, she agreed, but she saw how gratified this decision made him so she quickly let it slide.

After packing all their new things in the back of the car, Natsume then drove them to the nearest supermarket. From washing up liquid, to orange juice, to icing sugar, they bought everything that appealed to their eyes. At the checkout counter here, Natsume and Mikan split the cost, eagerly bagging everything in plastic bags. Once again, they transferred these bags into the car – they remarked how there was more than enough space for Natsume's things.

"We can put your books in the backseats," Mikan observed, putting her seatbelt on.

Natsume agreed and started the car up.

Next stop: his dad's home.

"Ah, Natsume!" Ioran called as he heard the front door open. He was in the kitchen, stirring his curry. "We were wondering what time you'd be back!"

"Hey, dad,"

"Hello, Ioran," chimed in Mikan's voice, as the front door shut.

"Hi, Mikan!" Ioran and Aoi welcomingly sing-songed.

"Hi, Aoi-chan!"

Together, after they had taken their shoes off, they made their way to the kitchen. The food smelt sweet, spicy and homely.

Aoi, who had been watching television, twisted her body around and leaned her arms over the sofa. She mentally marvelled, yet again, how happy they both looked together.

"I heard that you moved, Mikan," Ioran remarked, smiling. "I hope the move is going well?"

"Oh," a dusty pink settled over her cheeks, "yes, very well—"

She glanced at Natsume. From that glance alone, Aoi knew that she had been right all along.

"I've decided to move-in with Mikan," Natsume suddenly announced, "We're going to live together."

Ioran was absolutely thrilled by this pronouncement; he stopped stirring the curry and came over to give both his son and Mikan a hug. "How exciting this all is! Oh, how wonderful!"

Aoi covertly threw her older brother a pointed 'I told you so' look, before she too burst into compliments.

Overwhelmed, Mikan couldn't stop laughing and smiling, nodding enthusiastically at everything Ioran and Aoi said.

"I'm going to pack all my things and take them with me. Dad, can I borrow your car again tonight—"

"Well, let's all have dinner first," Ioran cordially suggested, "I've made more than enough for all of us and seconds. After dinner, we can all help you pack your things, and then I'll drive you. It'd be silly for you to make a redundant round-trip."

Natsume and Mikan agreed to Ioran's propositions, and then Mikan personally thanked him for his consideration, kindness and hospitality.

Dinner, as always, was a fun, spirited affair that satisfied not only the stomach but also the heart.

As Mikan watched Natsume laugh at his father's poor joke, she briefly wondered whether she was uprooting him, plucking him out of his environment. She knew how much his family meant to him. She decided that they should invite Ioran and Aoi to dinner as much as possible.

Once dinner was done, Natsume and Mikan washed the dishes. Then, the packing commenced. They all gathered in Natsume's room and tackled his bookshelf, desk and wardrobe. Natsume's books took longest to organize and pack; they not only included astrophysics books, but novels, poetry books and even photo albums (Mikan couldn't wait to peruse them later). Everything else moved rather smoothly. Natsume unstuck the photo by his lamp; that treasured photo of Mikan in Ueno Park. Carefully, he sandwiched it between his clothes, knowing it would not be crinkled there.

Soon, they were done.

Natsume looked around his bare room. This had been his bedroom for all his life. A bittersweet feeling throbbed in his heart: he wanted to go, he wanted more than anything to live with Mikan in their home, but suddenly, the significance and the reality of him leaving his family home dawned on him.

He had a new home now.

Abruptly, Ioran exclaimed that he had something he wanted to give Natsume and Mikan. He told them it was somewhere in his room, so he asked them to wait a few more minutes until he retrieved it. They agreed, of course.

Mikan, shrewd and particularly attentive to her boyfriend, caught a glimpse of Natsume's poignant expression. She guessed his feelings correctly. Unlike her, who had been liberated by her decision to move-out, Natsume's relationship with his family was strong, and it meant a part of his heart would always reside here. And, she was sure it was nothing compared to Natsume's feelings, a part of her mourned to leave this room too. She remembered the first time she had come here; that heart-warming welcome she had received from his family… and her and Natsume's exceedingly intimate night together afterwards…

For a time, this place, this room had become her sanctuary; a beautiful shelter that showed her that happy families did exist in this world, opening the possibility for her too. She had learned so much here.

Yet, she knew very well that many of Natsume's memories in this room, in this home, did not revolve around her. These walls held his childhood, the imprints of his mother…

She thought it was best he said goodbye to his room and his home with his sister, not with her.

"I'll wait in the corridor," Mikan kindly said, smiling empathetically. Quietly, she slipped out of his room.

She could hear the sibling's soft conversation from the other side of the wall, in the corridor.

"This room will always be yours, here for you," Aoi told her brother, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"You won't turn it into your closet?" Natsume softly teased, his expression still heavy with sentiment.

"… Well, now that you've given me the idea…" She giggled, "I'm joking. Your room has terrible lighting anyway. Not enough natural light." His heavy expression did not lighten with her words. So, comfortingly she pulled her big brother in for a hug. "You're too sensitive. Mikan'll worry," she gently chided.

"It just…" he clutched his sister's arms, "I just really miss mum."

(Outside, Mikan's heart painfully clenched at this confession.)

Then and there, Natsume distinctly remembered the feel of his mother's hand on his forehead, her caring touch, when he had lay on this bed sick with a high fever many years ago.

"Me too… but don't let nostalgia hold you back from the future." Aoi's advice was firm and sympathetic. "You said it yourself: Mikan's your present and future."

(Mikan felt breathless: she didn't know that Natsume had entrusted this to his sister—it made her feel incredibly happy, so happy to think that he had decreed this, validated their future, to the people he loved.)

"Besides," Aoi tone became lofty, "with you out, this means I won't have to listen to the two of you going at it ever again—"

(Mikan gaped, horrified, and clapped her hands to her mouth. She turned a bright shade of red.)

Natsume's tone had changed too: "We've never done that here before—" he lied, deeply disconcerted, faltering slightly.

"Um, unless you two enjoy watching porn together until the early hours of the morning every time Mikan stays over, then yes, you have. Many times."

(Mikan silently spluttered. She could only imagine Natsume's horrified expression.)

He tried his best to refute her claims, but alas, to no success.

Aoi brazenly continued, "With you gone, I no longer have to pretend that I'm deaf half of the night, that I didn't hear everything you two said and did to each other the night before," Aoi continued, lofty and devious, "maybe I won't need therapy after all—"

Natsume (very unconvincingly, very poorly) still maintained, "We've never… we don't…"

"Natsume—it's a small flat and we have thin walls," Aoi exclaimed, laughing, "I could hear everything. In fact, I'm sure that Mikan heard everything we've just been talking about—haven't you, Mikan?" Her question was spoken louder, directed at Mikan.

"Y-Yes," Mikan stammered, her voice squeaking.

Natsume came out of his room. He also looked slightly pink. She sheepishly smiled in his direction. He returned the guilty smile. At the same time, they both resignedly shrugged in semi-amusement, trying their best to dismiss the awkwardness.

Aoi popped her head out of the bedroom. She saw Mikan's blush and understood it as solid, irrefutable confirmation. "Ah, so you did hear everything!" She turned to Natsume, "See? If she heard us talking, why wouldn't I hear you guys—"

"Aoi—"

Ioran came to the rescue: he dashed out of his room, interrupting them all, pulling everyone's attention away from Natsume and Mikan's activities. Not noticing anything to be amiss, Ioran presented a painting to them.

"I want you two to have this," he proudly declared. "I painted it around the time I met you, Mikan. I didn't realize it at the time, but I suppose I was always painting this for the two of you, for your new home. Life is quite funny and strange like that."

Her blush sobered; now, her expression was that of awe and deep gratitude. It was a small, beautiful, delicate painting of flower field. In the corner of the painting, stood a small home by a creek. All the colours were soft and warm, like a baby's breath. It was picturesque, charming and earnest. It evoked the powerfully fragile feelings of security and homecoming.

Mikan loved it.

"It's my gift to you both," Ioran said, "I hope it finds a good place in your home."

"It will," Mikan promised, "it's so beautiful. It's perfect."

"I'm glad," Ioran's smile was serene. Then, he caught his son's emotive expression. Immediately, he pulled his son into a hug. He was so happy for his son; so happy for the man he had become, so happy for the couple's mutual love and affection.

Soon, the time to leave came. Aoi decided to join too. Holding Mikan's hand, Natsume left his childhood home. Soon, his father was driving him away from their small home. Aoi sat in the passenger seat, and so, in the backseat, surrounded by books and sitting close by Mikan, Natsume looked back through the window. Soon, he couldn't see it anymore. The books rattled beside him. He felt Mikan slip her hand on his. He squeezed it and looked at her. She smiled at him.

My present, my future.

Ioran and Aoi left after they helped carry all of their new things, their groceries and Natsume's things up to their flat. Mikan thanked them profusely for their help. Briefly, they explored the flat, impressed and excited by Natsume's new home, before they decided to take leave owing to the late time. Mikan invited them for dinner that weekend. They accepted the invitation, excited to return.

Then, they left.

"Let's go to bed; I'm tired," Natsume yawned, his arms cradling Mikan's waist as he rested his head on her shoulder. Slowly, he slowly moved in the direction of their bed, still embracing his girlfriend from behind. She moved with him, and turned her head to the side to give his cheek a kiss.

Soon, they were tucked in bed. Natsume moved to spoon his girlfriend, but soon, he found himself on top of her, kissing her deeply. Her naked legs circled his waist encouragingly, and her grip tightened when she felt his heavy breath against her neck as his fingers wandered.

She moaned. But that very sound reminded her of Aoi's disturbing revelations: to Natsume's befuddlement and bewilderment, Mikan suddenly shot up, pushing her boyfriend off of her.

Disorientated, Natsume blinked, "What happened? Did I bite too hard—"

"I just remembered what your sister said!"

Natsume paused. He grimaced. Reluctantly, he was reminded too.

But then, he pointed out, "Well, she's not here… you can be as loud as you want, Mikan."

Mikan swatted away his suggestive hands. "What if your dad heard us… heard me!"

Soothingly, he ran his hands down her arms. She relaxed under his touch. He kissed the tip of her nose. She closed her eyes. Soon, she was on her back once more, Natsume hovering above her. He kissed her softly on her temple, then murmured in her ear, "You do moan a lot… and you whine like nothing else—"

Her lull broke; again, she squealed and struggled, "Natsume!"

"—but I wouldn't have it any other way." She stopped squirming, and he steadfastly cupped her cheek, while his other hand stroked her hair, "I love the sounds you make with me. And with no sisters, no dads, no maids or butlers here in our home, you can make even more noise. For me."

"… Okay. For you."

The next morning, Natsume's alarm woke him up. Groaning, he stretched his hand to silence the beeping. Groggily, he noticed that Mikan was not in bed with him. Yawning, sluggishly, he pulled the covers away. Today, he had to go to the office for his research. It was nearly done – this was the last lap in the race now. Then later tonight, he was tutoring an undergraduate student at the university café. He had a long day ahead of him.

He rummaged in his side of the wardrobe. He pulled out his usual choice of outfit and laid them all on the bed. First, he needed a shower.

Soon, he was clean and dressed; still yawning, he finally left their room in search for coffee and for Mikan. He found both waiting for him in the kitchen.

"Good morning, baby," She brightly said, smiling. She was wearing a sheer black robe.

"You're up early," he commented, before he planted a soft kiss on her hairline, "good morning."

She nodded. "I woke up at six and I've been wide awake ever since. I've made you breakfast! And I unpacked our new home goods, groceries and a few of your things," she motioned around vaguely.

He looked around. Yes; now, he saw that she had folded most of his clothes by the sofa. She was clearly waiting for him to wake up before moving them into the wardrobe, not wanting to disturb his sleep. His heart also clenched as he saw that she had put up his dad's painting in one of the new frames they had bought, and that she had already put it up on the wall. The painting gleamed at them prettily. He also noticed that she had decorated their fridge with photos using the tangerine magnets. Photos of them together smiling happily to the world; photos of Natsume and his friends; photos of Natsume taken by Mikan; photos of Aoi, Ioran, Natsume and Mikan all eating dinner together at his; that photo of Mikan in Ueno Park; and, finally, many photos of Kaoru Hyuuga.

He was so touched by Mikan's considerations, at her decision to place his mum in their home so willingly, so quickly.

"I took some photos from your photo albums. I hope that's okay," with the tip of her fingers, she softly traced the corners of Kaoru's photos and those of Natsume and his friends.

"Of course," he lightly touched the photos of his mother, "… I haven't seen this one in ages. I took it in Osaka," he told her, "at a tea shop. We were waiting for Aoi and dad." Then, he confessed, "I liked having her to myself. I liked when it was just us; I always felt so lucky. I'm sure dad and Aoi did too. Mum had this ability to make everyone feel like they were the most special person in the world. Like you," he smiled at Mikan, now touching her hand, "you do that so effortlessly too."

"I don't do that to everyone," Mikan replied modestly, "I don't think I know how. I only do that to you, because you are my most special person."

"No; you do it too. Everyone is always in awe of you,"

"That's because I'm Mikan Sakura," she dismissed easily, shaking her head. "That's different."

"Maybe at first," Natsume granted, "but after they see you for who you are, they love you for that, not for your name. Look at Aoi – to her, your name no longer means anything compared to your being. She hardly cares for Mikan Sakura any more. Now, Mikan awes and inspires her. The same goes for my friends."

She still dismissed his kind words. That was not how she saw herself.

She peered at Kaoru's photos again. She wondered if Kaoru would have liked her. She wondered whether Kaoru would have approved of her dating her wonderful, beloved son.

"I wish I met her," Mikan longingly professed.

Natsume gazed at the photo again too. "She would have loved you too," Natsume simply knew this to be true. "I'll take you to her. We'll go to her grave soon."

"Yes," she pressed a quick, fleeting kiss against his jaw, "let's."

As he sat down for his breakfast, Mikan bit her lip, unsure about whether to voice out the words on the tip of her tongue. She decided to say it: "If you ever want to speak about your mother… I don't want to take that away from your family, but you can also speak to me about it if you wish. I… I might not know the right things to say, but I promise I'll listen to everything you say."

"Thank you," he sincerely said, touched by her words.

She smiled at him. She picked a grape from his fruit salad and popped it in her mouth before she sipped on her own coffee. Kindly, he left the grapes for her and passed her his bowl.

"I won't be back till after seven," Natsume reminded her. He was sure she already knew this.

She did; she nodded understandingly, chewing then swallowing the grapes. "I'll be here then."

"What are you doing today?"

"I'll finish unpacking—"

"Don't worry about my things—"

"No, it's fine," she insisted. "I don't mind at all. Though, I wanted to put all your books on the shelf but I didn't know how. I didn't know if you wanted them in a certain order. Do you alphabetize? What do you want on the top shelf? If you tell me, I can do that for you while you're at the office today."

"Are you sure?" He seemed hesitant; he knew how heavy some of his books were.

She nodded. "I'll be careful," she promised, seeing his concern.

"What else will you do?" He asked, after she had made a note on her phone of Natsume's desired categorization.

"I'm seeing Hotaru and Sumire for lunch," she told him, "then, we're going to a Gucci event," she made face, grudgingly, "they're probably going to make us all wear something from the new collection. Sumire showed me the pictures; it looks awful."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he smiled as he sipped his coffee, "I'm sure you'll look great in it."

"Because of my name, they'll probably put in that horrendous orange faux-fur mess of a coat," she shuddered, shaking her head.

Natsume laughed. "Send me a photo."

"If you insist…"

She sent a photo just past 3p.m. He laughed when he saw her in the dreaded orange coat. Her fear had not been for nothing. It was an pure explosion of orange; she was drowning in the heavy collars. She was pulling an unhappy face, one of her thumbs pointed down. They had also painted her eyelids and lips orange. The look was strange, unconventional but he couldn't deny that she looked like a professional model.

SOS, she messaged him soon after.

Don't worry, you still look edible, he replied.

That Thursday, Mikan had to go to an event in Omotesando with Sumire in the evening; and so, Natsume thought this would be a good opportunity to have dinner with his friends. He had not told his friends about his move yet; he wanted too, of course, but he felt that something of this magnitude should be told in person.

Once they were all sat in the ramen bar, once they all had a drink in front of them, Natsume finally delivered the happy news.

"That's great!" Luca congratulated.

"You lucky bastard!" Mochu cried, with a smile.

"So soon?!" Koko questioned, his tone was both surprised and pleased. "It hasn't even been a year!"

"He told us he wanted to get married to her one day," Mochu pointed out on behalf of Natsume, "this shouldn't come as a surprise!"

"That's true… congratulations, Natsume!" He amended, leaning over to clap his shoulders supportively.

Now, Mochu questioned, "But I was thinking: don't rich people have arranged marriages and shit?"

Natsume snorted, his eyes mocking, "Well, she's kind of agreed. I doubt she would have accepted me if she had a fiancé, Mochu,"

"I'm just sayin'," Mochu shrugged, "I thought rich people only married rich. I thought that's how rich people stayed rich."

"Mikan's rich enough for the two of them… rich enough for us too!" Koko joked, beaming. Luca kicked him under the table, glaring. "It's true! She bought them a love nest! Just like that!"

"It's a home, not a love nest," Natsume amended, raising an eyebrow.

"But you gotta admit, it's quick," Koko said, "aren't you worried you two are rushing into things? What if living together isn't what you expect it to be?"

Pragmatically, Natsume answered, "I guess we'll deal with it then, if that ever happens," (but his tone suggested he thought this to be very, very unlikely.)

"You're not scared then? You're not scared it might ruin the relationship?"

"No," Natsume honestly replied, "I know it'll be more intense than before, but that's what I want. I want to come home to her. I want her to come home to me."

"When can we come over?" Koko asked, grinning excitedly.

"Yeah, I wanna see the place!" Mochu harmonized. "Did she buy a palace? Is there a pool?"

"You two are idiots," Luca decided, shaking his head.

Natsume indulged the idiots. "Mikan wants to invite her friends too. We were thinking about inviting you all over together."

"Mikan's friends? More hot, rich girls? Sign me the fuck up!" eagerly, Koko waved a hand around.

A/N: Again, in a rush! Thanks for the reviews and see you soon!