Chapter 11: Unforeseen Turmoil

-x-

As someone who followed the rule of matter, in a short time such as now, Hotaru took no chance of them turning into window-shoppers. She went straight to the directory board once she entered the lobby. Mikan, who had imagined to pace around with her friend and gawk at all the decorations, pouted and followed her as Hotaru preferred to enter the lift and not the escalator, no matter how much she pleaded.

"This is not fun," she said.

Hotaru pressed the fifth floor button. "Tell me something I don't know."

"I want us to look at the interior and the decor. You know they paid a lot to the window designer, just to do something like a Christmas theme every year? Let us not waste their effort." Mikan smiled.

"Let us not waste your free time from the job by wasting the company's effort to pay a window designer."

"But the designs are wonderful." Mikan pointed to the accessory shop that was visible through the elevator glass walls. "Look!"

"I know your job sucks, but that's the only thing that rates you as a human right now, no matter how not wonderful it is."

"I'm still human without my job."

"If you lost your job, you would beg to stay with me until you get another one. I would take you as a pet."

"I won't lose my job. Natsume will not let me lose my job. He's my fiancé."

"I know. That's the problem."

"Stop talking like he's a philanthropist by proposing to me," Mikan said, raising her chin. "Tell me one thing that made you think he is better than me. Aside from he is my boss."

Hotaru marched out after the door opened. "You're useless. At least he can burn something and good at math."

"You're the only one who thinks that. My fiancé never said I'm useless."

"Of course he never said that. He thinks you're a fool."

"How do you—he's not!" Mikan staggered after Hotaru's steps. "At least I'm getting married and you're not."

"Should I feel jealous about that?"

"Well," Mikan said. "At least I do have someone."

Hotaru's prompt pace guided them into a store, sooner than what the bride-to-be expected. "So?"

"You don't have a boyfriend and I don't see anyone trying to court you."

"I am alone. Congrats if that shallow thing makes you feel better about yourself." Hotaru strode farther, ignoring her friend's pout.

"Welcome!" A chirp surprised both of them. "How may I help you?" A woman in green suit beamed at them, opening her arms wide and flipped it up and down, resembling a bird that failed to fly. "Welcome to the bridal shop!"

Hotaru frowned. "This is the bridal shop?" She looked around, noticing that her surroundings did resemble a bridal shop, with a huge five level wedding cake standing alone in one corner and tons of white clothes hanging on the other corner. Nevertheless, something was not right in her mind. "I think we choose a wrong store."

"You can't be," the shopkeeper said, shaking her head with enormous speed. "This is the only bridal shop in this mall."

"I think we choose a wrong mall," Hotaru replaced her noun.

"Stop being a spoilsport and let's get inside," Mikan said, dragging her friends into an area with round transparent table and three white iron chairs. "Can we get a wedding organiser?" She rammed her friend to sit before sitting on another chair.

"Of course," the shopkeeper smiled and sat in the last chair. "I am one. How may I help you?"

"We're doomed."

Mikan glared at Hotaru. "Would you at least close your mouth if you're not helping?" She turned to the shopkeeper/wedding organiser. "I'm getting married on Sunday. Could you arrange a wedding that fast?"

"Of course I can!" the woman said. "What do you need?"

"What the bride needs, of course."

"Yeah, what is that?"

Mikan stared at the woman, who stared back. After a long silent moment, Mikan said, "You know... Dress, cake, place, invitation and all that stuff?"

"Oh!" The woman smacked her forehead. "Of course! How silly of me!"

Hotaru snorted, but kept her gaze on the table when the bride-to-be glared at her.

"Well, we have to work fast, right?" The woman jumped from her chair and skipped to the dressing area. "I think this is your dress," she said while plucking one white short dress wrapped in plastic. "That is your cake." She pointed to the five-level wedding cake standing proud in the corner. "And this," she said, picking one of the brochures cluttering the front counter, "is your location." Walking back to Mikan, she handed the dress and the brochure to her.

"Wait a minute..." Mikan raised the dress to her eye-level. "This is way too short. And how come you choose everything without even discussing it with me first?" She looked at the brochure. "Okinawa Temple? Why should I have my wedding somewhere hours away if I can do it in Tokyo?"

"I think she has a point," Hotaru said. "That way, your groom won't be able to escape if he has a doubt about this."

Mikan ignored her. "Are you a real wedding organiser? I don't think wedding organizing should be done like this."

"Have you ever seen the real wedding organiser at work?" the woman said. Her eyes shone. "We are the best! We work so fast! Many customers were satisfied with the way we handled their wedding!"

"I didn't ask—"

"Let's try the dress!" The woman said, motioning Mikan to follow her.

Frowning, Mikan stood up and lumbered to the changing booth. She stopped in front of the curtain and sent a helpless look to Hotaru, who shielded the gaze towards her face with one hand and pretended to fall asleep, limping her body and resting the back of her head to her slim iron chair.

Five minutes later, Mikan walked out from the booth and glared at the grinning woman.

"See? How cute is that?" the woman said.

Mikan looked down and traced the smooth seam on the edge of her dress. She hated how easy her finger could trace the edge of something that should be her wedding dress, not her wedding night lingerie. "I don't want to go to the altar wearing something shorter than my student's skirt."

"Oh, so you're a teacher? What do you teach?"

"Sports. But it has nothing to do with this."

"Well, it does!" The woman placed her hands on her hip. "You have a pair of beautiful legs, why not showing it off like that in your wedding day? I'm sure your groom loves it!"

"He is, and he'll pull the curtain off the nearest window to cover me up, while saying how stupid I am by choosing something like this as our wedding dress."

"Or he'll say the bridal shop nowadays lacks material," Hotaru added.

"I thought you're supposed to be sleeping." Mikan glanced at Hotaru who resumed her act. "Do you have another dress?"

-x—

-x—

Luca had no idea what awoke him. For a moment, he gaped at his surroundings, then to the flight attendant who watched him with a knowing smile.

"Are you tired?"

He rubbed his eyes. "...No, not really." Accepting a glass of water offered to him, he forced himself to smile at his long acquaintance. "How long have I been sleeping?"

The flight attendant glanced at her watch. "About two hours. We still have several more hours to go before we reach our destination. Are you going there on another rescuing trip?"

"No, not this time," he said. "Japan is my hometown."

"Oh?" The flight attendant seemed interested. "I always thought you lived in New Zealand?"

Deep in his mind, he wondered if anyone, even himself, knew where he belonged. He travelled a lot and changed his time zone from one to another faster than anyone he knew. He had places to rest in any countries he visited, all he had to do was calling his colleagues in the area and they would come right away, accepting him into their home or the zoo where they worked. He was used to this kind of life, he loved his job and he never wanted to change his lifestyle. Then, why was it when he did nothing, all the past memories surged through his head? Why did the past that he went through with his friends, and with her, flowed through his mind and made him anxious?

He had never come back to his homeland. Just a few hours ago, his girlfriend had accompanied him to the last area where non-passenger was allowed to enter and had sent him away with a deep, loving kiss. He smiled and turned his back on her, but once he was out of her sight, his smile disappeared. He lumbered to the plane, smiled and embraced Cassandra and Natasha, two flight attendants he had known from his long backpacking history. They were surprised, but laughed and kissed him with all the love they could provide him with, as if they had not seen him for years, not just seven hours ago. Cassandra whispered to him that one of the stewards could not come and they could give him a place right behind the co-pilot seat if he wanted to rest. He sneaked a peek at his economy class ticket, and grinned.

The co-pilot blinked when he took the seat and touched his hat, grinning at him. "Hey."

"Hey to you too; how's Greta?"

"She's doing fine. Just had her shot yesterday, crying her heart out like a spoiled princess," the co-pilot said, pulling his right sleeve and showing his arm. "She's getting stronger."

"That's a mean bite mark."

"You should see what happened when my son pulled her tail two weeks ago. Even I was afraid to separate them."

He nodded, placed his head on the head pillow that Natasha slipped behind him and closed his eyes.

-x—

-x—

"But this is the best cake in the shop!"

"The best?" Mikan's irritated voice snapped Hotaru from her power nap. "Is it even edible?"

Yawning, Hotaru shifted her position and massaged her tired back.

"It's everyone's favourite cake!"

"They had no taste," Mikan grimaced as she chewed. "Ugh."

Peeking towards the corner, Hotaru saw her friend standing in front of the tall wedding cake that they saw when they entered. In her hand lay a small plate with half-eaten slice of cake.

"I'm not going to choose this," Mikan said, shoving the plate back to the wedding organiser's hand. "This place is a mess." Staring at Hotaru, she said to her friend, "Nothing fits in here."

"This place is crap," Hotaru summarized it for her.

"No! No!" The wedding organiser shook her head. "This bridal shop comes from France. Everything about wedding is perfect in here; we simulated the services from our original store! Just like in French, everyone who had used our service said: Felicite!" the wedding organiser said, flailing her arms in the air. "Something must fit your taste in here! Let us try something again, shall we? I'm sure something will fit you!"

Hotaru glanced at her. "Vous n'arriverez pas à me berner si facilement."

The woman shot her a blank stare.

"You don't know French after all," Hotaru said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mikan," Hotaru said, drawing the girl's attention towards her. "C'est une arnaque, ne te laisse pas berner."

"Really?" Mikan looked around. "Yeah. But..."

"I'm leaving. It's up to you if you want to stay." The stoic girl stood up, collected the car key in her hand and walked away.

"Wait—Hotaru! If you're leaving then why did you take Natsume's key?" Mikan ran to catch up with Hotaru. "So what am I going to use to get back home?"

"You used his car to lure me here," Hotaru replied. "It's only natural that I leave this place with the only thing that is fun for me today."

"But it's my fiancé's car." Mikan huffed.

"Hey!" the wedding organiser shouted from the store. "You're not buying anything?"

Mikan turned towards the woman, but kept walking. "Sorry! My friend's not feeling well today!"

"And whose fault is that?" Hotaru mumbled. Her arm linked to Mikan's arm, dragging the girl in the elevator. "Hurry up."

"If you're coming back," the wedding organiser shouted. "Look for Elena, okay? It is my name! E-le-na!"

"Um, I will." Mikan stepped inside before the door closed. "Why did she order me around?"

"I think you liked her doing that." Hotaru released her grip on Mikan's arm.

"I'm not!" Mikan crossed her arms. Looking around and noticing nobody else inside the elevator, Mikan said to Hotaru, "So, why did you call her work a scam? Why did you tell her she won't fool you?"

"Only one person minding a store as big as that? Why did she push you too far into buying?" Hotaru shrugged, looking outside via the glass walls. "It smells fishy."

"I told you not to eat that strange shrimp at those cheap ramen kiosks again, didn't I?"

"Ha-ha. You're lame."

Shrugging, Mikan looked down and studied her watch. "Four hours. I have to go back now."

"Or you can drive to another mall, forget about the mindless order from your delusional fiancé and waste this day finding a good, trusty wedding organiser. You can use his card to buy many dresses you have drooled about in Shinjuku. We can have Taiyaki and huge ice cream in the cafe. He never knows until the bill comes, when you have become his wife."

Mikan peered at Hotaru, who leaned the side of her body to the glass walls. "Were you trying to flame me on?"

"Did it work?"

"Of course not. I'm going back." Mikan reached her arm out to Hotaru. "Give me his key, I'm driving you home."

"So much about helping you find a good dress and whatnot," Hotaru said, handing the key back to her friend.

"You're not helping at all."

Hotaru shrugged and continued her stare at the nonentity being outside the glass walls.

-x—

-x-

That was two hours ago.

I should be tired enough to resume my rest in front of anyone, he thought. Smiling, Luca shook his head to clear his thought and answered her question at the same time.

"I was born in Japan," he informed the curious Natasha. She sat beside him with a perfect pose that she unconsciously formed. He wanted to ask her if she was born in some kind of inn in Russia, but then again they did not have such culture like the traditional Japanese inn. Perhaps she was a ballerina before she became a flight attendant. He decided to ask such question would lead to an informative story about where she was born, what she was doing before she became a flight attendant and when it ended, she would ask him about himself.

He wanted to avoid that. They were friends on the air, but on land, they might have one or two drinks together, and that was it. He had no means of telling anyone outside his inner circle about his life, his Alice and his past. What happened in the history of Luca Nogi was supposed to be Luca Nogi's secret. The only person who knew all the things he had done and would never do again was Aoi, and she took more than three years digging out everything he had and would provide for her.

Natasha asked no more question; Cassandra ambled in and asked her to help carry out passengers' lunches. Luca fixed his seat and stared out of the front window. Outside, it was all blue and white. Sometimes he had an offer to sit in a place like this and as someone who had nested in the economy class for too long, he never refused.

-x-

-x—

Natsume crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his fiancée. She put his car key beside his feet that rested above the desk. "So, you're not buying anything. You're wasting four hours that could be used for a more efficient purpose."

"Did you really mean that?" Mikan tilted her head. "That I can possibly find anything we will need in four hours?"

"Yes, I do, for anything that youwill need. I have no care for dresses, cake, places and whatever it is you dream about." Natsume pushed his body forward, slid his hand over the desk and grabbed the key. "I guess this means you're going to marry me in whatever you have."

Mikan threw her body down onto the chair across from her fiancé's desk. "Why don't you spend a day off with me, so we can go look for everything I am going to need together?"

He stared at her as if she was insane, before swinging his hand over the high pile of documents stacked in the corner of the room. "And I'm going to assign all my work to...?"

"You're going to finish them anyway," Mikan said, resting her elbows on the desk and smiling. "Wedding is a once in a lifetime event. You should spend more energy into them."

"I'm feeling tired already."

"I'm serious. Come on, go with me and we'll check on things together."

Groaning, the principal pushed his feet down to the floor and stood up. "Go to your class."

His fiancée pouted. "You're impossible." She stood up in a sluggish motion, turned around and stomped her way out of his office.

Natsume gazed at the stacks of document, to the door, turned his gaze back to zilch on his desk and ended his pointless stare at the phone. After half a second of hesitation, he picked up the phone and started to dial the number he dreaded.

-x—

-x-

Luca would never be rich, and he knew it. He had ignored what his parents said about being a 'crocodile hunter' and the misery that went with it. The single idea he had followed from his parents' advice was to go to someone who knew better, and he was glad to follow the suggestion.

"You don't look well," his mother said, after he came to her house straight from his Japan escape. "If you –who would hide everything important from me— can show your weakness like this, you must be very ill." She tapped her index finger to her temple. "Right here. Go to the psychiatrist before the kiwis you work with decide to stop your misery by stabbing a hole in your forehead with their foot."

As an effort to stop her from interfering with his latest hobby of daydreaming, he complied. He chose the farthest place from his mother's residence by twirling his pen on the world map, and flew to Washington. Without knowing where he headed to, he entered the airport taxi with an order to, "Get me a shrink."

Once he stepped inside the vast and luxury office, he berated himself because he didn't take his mother's gold credit card when he had the chance. Armed with his smile –and the knowledge that mentioning his mother's name would save him from jail for not paying— he entered the psychiatrist room.

The woman who waited inside the room surprised him.

"I'm stepping into a wrong place," he said and turned his back.

"I know you will come," Aoi said, spreading her arms wide on the armrest. "With your history of talking to animals and playing with them, I know one day you will need a psychiatrist."

He clenched the door handle. "I'm not crazy."

"That's what everyone said when they entered. I never had a chance to prove them right."

"If everyone who turned to you became crazy, I'm stepping into a wrong place."

"You did step into a wrong place. The mental hospital is at least thirty miles away."

He turned and glared. "Nice to know you remember where you live in."

Aoi grinned. "I'm always accepting a new member with wide arms." She nodded to the couch in front of her. "Come on in."

He bit his lips.

"One foot in, one foot out," she said, flicking her fingers in the air. "Where do you want to go? Is it the path of craziness, or the path of a living being with a sense of normalcy?"

"Don't tell me you hold the key of being the latter, please."

"I'm not. I hold the key of being an oppressed citizen with a boring life." Aoi raised her foot and placed it on the coffee table before setting the other one above it.

Luca glanced at her. "You're not going to tell Natsume?"

"What's to tell? I don't know anything yet."

"If—if I told you, you're not going to run away and buy the first flight ticket to Japan?"

"That's stupid, isn't it? My technique is far better than that."

He frowned.

"No, I'm not going to tell anyone." Aoi rolled her eyes. "I'm a psychiatrist; I'm the one who listens. You pay me to listen to all your problems."

"That's..." Luca shifted his body weight and leaned to the door frame. "That's also the problem."

Aoi tilted her head.

"I don't have enough money to pay you."

She stared at him. "Thank you for your cooperation. Now, if you can turn and leave right now, I have another client—"

"But my mom can pay you."

"Is that the problem? Your mom still pays for everything?"

"No." Luca closed the door and stepped towards her. "So you are a psychiatrist, huh?" He sat on the couch. "I find it hard to believe."

"So did I; you take longer to show up and admit about the voices in your head than what I have expected."

"Don't put words in my mouth. There are no voices in my head."

Aoi put her feet down. "So, tell me what you've done since the last time I saw you."

They did have a nice conversation. In the end, he asked if he should pay for another meeting, and she directed him to her cold receptionist, who had to have injected Botox to the sides of her lips and never smiled. Not once, not twice, not forever did the receptionist smile at him when he visited the office.

As far as their relationships went, Aoi never asked about Hotaru. Luca told her everything and she listened with detached expression. She was an excellent psychiatrist, although he found her being strict and impossibly childish once they became lovers.

Back to his present, Luca sucked in intense air around him as much as he could. No matter how hard he tried to relax, the thought of walking into the Academy was hell. He knew eventually he would see her. He came to shut the teen boy's mouth, bribed him with anything he could offer, and flew back home to embrace his lover.

"Hey," the co-pilot called. "Are you going to sleep? Do you want me to wake you when we arrive?"

"Why? Will we arrive soon?"

"No, I'm just asking; we're still far-far away from 'the Gate of East Asia'. You look like you're half-dead anyway. Being a snake catcher must be harder than being a co-pilot."

"Not that hard," Luca said. "I'd like to be awake later and not to be quarantined along with this plane when it landed. Please."

The co-pilot chuckled. "Okay."

-x—

-x-

The woman crossed her foot and sent her curious glances to her surroundings. Her elegant blue suit, accompanied with the short blue mini skirt, made no effort at easing Natsume's anxiety. The principal kept his stare at her and realized that he must be crazy. He would never call her if he was not on the edge of sanity. He wished he could forget her number and her promise, but at a time like this, he would get any help he could have, even when it cost his arms and legs.

"You promise you won't fight her," Natsume said, keeping his voice neutral. "I take your words on that."

"I did promise that," the woman said, smirking and continuing to revise his office. "But I won't hold back if she's the one who starts."

"She won't. It's you that I'm worried about."

"Your expectation of my professionalism is that low?" She showed her white and bright set of teeth. "I'm pretty sure I won't do anything unless provoked."

"Our history didn't prove that."

"You read a wrong book." The woman made herself cosy on the chair. "Well? Where is she?"

"In a minute," Natsume said, looking up when Mikan rammed into the office without a knock. "...Or less."

"Why did you call me in the middle of P.E.?" Mikan grunted. Her eyes widened when she saw the blue-clothed woman. "You—you're still alive? What are you doing here?"

"How rude," the woman shook her head. "Why do you talk to me like that? Don't you think you should be friendlier to me?"

"Did 'friendlier' ever a term for us?"

"I don't know. Maybe, could be." The woman shrugged. "Could not, but no matter how much you loathe me, we should work together now, for your own good."

"What?" Mikan glared at Natsume who stood and accessed the situation as if he was in the war zone. "What is this, Natsume? Care to explain?"

Natsume glanced from Mikan to the woman, wondering if they would beat him if he said the wrong thing. "She can explain better."

"Yeah, but why should I?" The woman raised her hand and waved her hair back over her shoulder. "You're the one who needs me. I'm getting paid by the hour I spent in here."

The bride-to-be glowered at her might-not-be-groom. The fiancé gulped.

The woman studied Mikan appearance and snorted. "I see you're still the same skinny monkey before I left."

"A skinny monkey who is about to get married," Mikan corrected her phrase. "Mind to tell me what you're doing in here?"

"Let's see..." The woman tapped a finger to her lips. "You need a facial. Several hours at the spa—perhaps two or three days, a luxurious dress to cover your simplicity..."

"She can't," Natsume said. "She had a work to do. Plus, it's not like I'm that rich to buy her a very expensive dress"

"You can't?" The woman peered at the principal. "Sell your car then."

Natsume blinked, and then glowered.

"Anybody care to tell me what's going on in here?" Mikan flinched when the woman came closer and started measuring her body. "What is she doing? Why does she hassle me?"

"If this is what you think hassle is," the woman said, tugging at Mikan skirt and earned herself a glare. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Mikan turned to her fiancé. "Well?"

"Because you took so long and found nothing, I asked her if she had time," Natsume said. "She's the best in the business. We are lucky she agreed to help us." He coughed. "Mikan, meet Sumire... Your wedding organiser."

-x-

To be continued...