Sorry it's short, I'll try to post soon. Thanks for all the review though, I didn't realize that many people read this. Looking through the review is giving me motivation to crank these chapters out faster! :)
Mikan didn't know what Aoi was thinking when she forced her into the high end boutique. It was clean and polished and perfumed. Everything was also very, very bright- even by Mikan's standards. There were fluorescent lights that shone down and reflected off the white walls, large mirrors, and glass panels. It was the exact type of store Mikan tended to avoid. For one, they were expensive, and Mikan typically didn't like those types of clothes anyways. She preferred comfortable yet stylish garb.
Another pile of dresses rained down the dressing room stall. Mikan was sitting in her underwear on the small bench while Aoi threw dress after dress into the stall. The silk, velvet, and lace pooled together in slippery puddles, occasionally sprinkled with gems and buttons and brooches. Mikan was dazzled by the garments, but tried them on reluctantly. She believed that they were the type of things that should be admired in magazines, not actually tried on.
"This one, Mikan,"
A dress was draped over the door and Aoi shook it impatiently. It was bright orange but cut sleekly, revealing patches of skin along the sides. It was clearly well made and reeked of money. Mikan pulled it on, leaving it unzipped in the back. She took a good look in the mirror.
It was okay, she supposed, but nothing special. Aoi opened the door and squinted.
"You look good, but I don't think that's it," she said slowly, still examining Mikan. The other girl hastily nodded and slipped it off her shoulders. Wordlessly, Aoi thrust a dark blue dress, a pink dress, a lavender one, another dark blue, a black dress, and a lighter blue dress. She tried on dress after dress. Eventually, they all blurred together and Mikan could hardly remember what she had already tried on and what she hadn't. Although Mikan looked fine in most of the dresses, something was still lacking. Mikan would have been okay with any dress, but Aoi was obstinate and had decided that Mikan needed to look impeccable. Mikan soon grew tired of it all and strode out of the dressing room to browse for something herself.
The initial reluctance to shift through incredibly expensive clothes soon wore off and Mikan aggressively pushed hangers aside in order to find a suitable garment. She frowned in distaste when browsing. Everything was so flashy and could only be described to be "high fashion." Finally, Mikan emerged victorious. She carried the dress gingerly to the dressing room and locked the door behind her.
She unzipped the dress and slid it over her head in a rustle of silk. It fell to hang from her shoulders and cling softly to her body down to her feet. Mikan slowly turned to the floor length mirror and appraised her reflection.
It was a crimson red, which brought out the warmer hues in her hair and eyes. The dress was silk and hung from wide straps. The proper name for the dress was a halter top and Mikan was glad to see that it accentuated her moderate bust. Although she wasn't completely flat per se, but a B-cup wasn't necessarily something to brag about. The v-neck came down fairly low, she noted. She hoped that there wouldn't be any old men checking out what cleavage she had. The waist was cinched in with another wide strip of crimson fabric that had some sort of lace applique. It wasn't excessively extravagant, but Mikan appreciated the way it enhanced the natural curves of her body without being too over the top.
"Aoi?" she called out hesitantly. The girl burst into the dressing room and her eyes widened. She smiled gleefully- almost maniacally- and grabbed both of Mikan's hands.
"It's prefect!" she squealed, "He won't be able to resist!"
Mikan knew who Aoi was alluding to and chose to stay silent. She hadn't told Aoi that she had resolved to move on, given the way Natsume reacted. She had only told Aoi her side of the story in order to reassure the woman of her fidelity. But Aoi had mistaken her explanation as a desire to get back together. She smiled weakly, thinking that the world was acting against her once again. At least she looked nice.
Yoichi was feeling restless. Something left him feeling uneasy and unable to relax. He paced in his office and refused to complete any work. There was this feeling of some foreboding misfortune, and that scare Yoichi. Everything had been incredibly turbulent lately; from Mikan's breakup, everything had seemed to move downhill. He stood with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, looking from the top floor of the tall company building. He frowned, trying to figure out how to deal with all of the ridiculously sudden changes. Not only did he have to take care of his family, but he felt obligated to look after Mikan; she had been through so much and everyone would be devastated if she had to suffer any other hardships. Gritting his teeth, Yoichi's glare soured as he realized that this was not going to be the end. There was just something brewing for the future and it could very well break Mikan.
Yoichi unclenched his fists, thinking of his senior in school. He fondly remembered meeting Aoi through the girl. Mikan had introduced the two, and become a mentor of sorts to the two of them. They had followed her everywhere and ended up building a fairly good relationship themselves. Although there was initially some jealousy, it had dissipated quickly into a strong comradery. That was another thing that he owed Mikan for: meeting Aoi. He heaved a heavy sigh, turning to face the door and slumping in an intimidating office chair. Yoichi aimlessly traced the worn hide of the black leather, whistling quietly.
"Yoichi!"
His secretary barged in, shocking Yoichi badly enough to cause him to jump out of his chair. He burned red in embarrassment and recomposed himself into "CEO-mode" as Aoi had dubbed it.
"What is it?" he asked, folding his arms and straightening his stance.
"Ehh… sir," she said urgently. She kept her voce hushed in order to avoid drawing any attention. Although Yooichi's office made up a large majority of the uppermost floor of the company building, many people passed by and you could never be too wary of conflict-hungry gossips.
"Bad news?" he guessed, judging from her tone.
His secretary nervously stumbled to his side and agitatedly glanced from side to side before motioning for Yoichi to lean down. He did so, not choosing to comment on his secretary's unusual unprofessionalism. She whispered in his ear.
"Ms. Sakura's grandfather- he's in critical condition."
"WHAT?!" Yoichi shouted. The woman cringed and brought her index finger to her lips, motioning for him to quiet down.
"He's been moved into the intensive care war and his health has dropped… I don't think they've been able to get a hold of Ms. Sakura yet."
Yoichi gripped the edge of his desk and swayed; the man had been a great influence in his life, serving as a sort of substitute father. Even worse, though, was going to be Mikan's reaction. And Aoi's reaction.
Yoichi never dreaded being right more than ever.
His hand wavered over the phone. He knew that calling her would be devastating. One misstep and everything would be lost. He frowned, trying to figure out why he was so hesitant. It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong. But nonetheless, something barred him from picking up the phone and calling her right away. He glanced apprehensively at the phone, examining its glossy black exterior. It was in pristine condition. He hadn't used it much. He didn't really have reason to.
His secretary came in, disrupting his train of thought. There was work to be done. As always. And it had to be done now. It was odd that people didn't have a sense of priority. Personal matters such as these were more important and pressing. He gritted his teeth and picked up the phone in one fluid motion, waving his secretary away with the other hand.
His fingers quickly picked out the buttons corresponding with her number. He knew it by heart.
It rang once, twice, thrice. Although the phone continued ringing, he didn't let himself hang up.
After all, Misaki might not have a date to the Hyuuga Anniversary Ball.