Café D'Amour
Author's Note: I just wanted to express my joy at reaching over 200 reviews! Yay! Thanks a bunch to everyone who has read this—whether you left a review or not. Thank you :)
By the way, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to xAnimex. Thank you for your honesty and support, and sorry that this chapter is weeks late!
Chapter XII: Talk About Shocking Revelations
She said them quickly and repetitively enough that it sounded like a single word. "Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go!" Her fists of course, pounded to the rhythm of every syllable.
"You know, I am beginning to hear the word 'amigo,' which is Spanish for friend." The stranger gave her butt a friendly pat. Somehow, along the way, he had thrown her over his shoulder so that her fists-of-fury could not do any harm to his all-too-important face.
But now he was afraid his back would be in grave danger.
"Friend my butt, you pervert-slash-stranger!" She took in another deep, deep breath for the umpteenth time. "Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go—"
Where am I going? Securing a hand behind the back of her knees while the other kept her balanced by grasping her lower back, he noticed that the number of people around them were slowly increasing.
Feeling that upon attracting too much would inevitably reveal his identity; he pulled a pair of sunglasses and a cap from his back-pocket and placed them where they ought to be.
The stranger tried, yet again, another effort to try to calm the wild beauty. This time, it would be the sympathy card. "It is unfortunate that I have not had anything to eat since breakfast of two days ago..." In truth, he had a mighty dinner-feast just last night.
"Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go—"
"I am so very tired from traveling thus far through difficult means..." He had parachuted off a private jet just a couple of hours ago; difficult? Meh. Fun? It was a long weee all the way!
"Let-me-go-let-me-go—"
"So lost in a place that is completely and utterly alien to me..." Partially true. He knew his country, but he was honestly not familiar with Tokyo.
"Let me go..."
"Unable to locate my dear friends and poor family members who must be worried sick by now..." He has already 'located' exactly what he had been searching for: adventure. Not family members and imaginary friends.
"..." Her movements seized instantly.
He smirked in secret while he mentally thanked his own genius. And then, just to be on the safe side, he breathed a sigh so filled with sorrow and melancholy that it even amazed himself.
"I'm sorry. I won't hurt you anymore, so please let me down."
"You will not attempt to flee?"
He felt her body quiver with the shake of her head. "I'll even have breakfast with you." He set her down on her feet. "If you just explained that to me from the start, I wouldn't have worked so hard to create a scene."
Trying hard to keep a gloomy face, the corners of his mouth dipped down ever so slightly. "I sincerely apologize for my poor behaviour. I simply cannot help myself when I am in the presence of a beautiful lady."
That boy was lucky because all those lies would only be believed by the most gullible, soft-at-heart, and lovingly family-oriented girl known as Mikan. And as if luck was truly on his side, his stomach produced an audible growling sound despite the amount of food he had recently consumed. He looked down and touched a hand to it.
She smiled at its volume. "Come on," taking one of his large and strangely familiar hands, she urged him to follow her, "Let's get something to eat. My treat."
As her eyes left his to lead the way, he allowed himself the moment's worthy grin of triumph.
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"Je ne peux pas comprendre comment elle peut juste simplement disparaître!"
(I cannot understand how she is able to just simply disappear!)
"Calm down, Natsume." Ruka noticed that whenever Natsume went into a fit of rage, he often switched to and fro with English and French. "We'll find her."
"Mon dieu! She does not even have so much as a speck of sex appeal!" He demonstrated the size of the 'speck with the tiny space between his index finger and thumb. "S'ils touchent une mèche de ses cheveux—"
(If they touch a strand of her hair—)
Ruka couldn't help a grin. "You like her, don't you?"
"I swear I will hunt them—" Shocked at his words, Natsume jerked himself back out of his little world of rage.
Taking advantage of his break in threats, Ruka continued, "You like her." He said the words like they were facts, not questions, this time. "A lot."
Silence greeted his words. Natsume just stared back, unable to deny it, unable to say anything.
"When we met, I felt we had a connection. It took me a while, but I realize what that connection is now." Even though Ruka felt relieved at unearthing the unnerving bond, the truth of it weighed heavily on his heart. "We both have the same dilemma regarding a single girl. We—"
"What does it matter now, Ruka?" Despair tugged at his mentality. She's gone, he thought miserably, she's gone.
"You're right. This isn't the time to be talking about that." He pulled out his rarely-used cell phone, "We've got to inform the police about her disa—"
"No!" Natsume swore under his breath as he quickly regretted the thoughtlessness of his outburst. "No, I just thought that...it is— I mean it's just unnecessary to involve the police force. They aren't reliable—it would take too long." He could not afford to be enquired; about anything. "Are there no other superior methods to find her?"
Ruka pondered a minute, briefly staring at Mikan's dropped purse and going through his memory for any kinds of links to Mikan. "Actually, there is a way." He saw a glimmer of hope in Natsume's calmed features.
He loves her just as I do, Ruka corrected himself. Natsume just doesn't really know it yet. "As we were growing up, I always found it weird that Hotaru—Oh." Just realizing that Natsume probably did not know who she was, Ruka began to expain, "She's Mikan's best friend..."
"We've met," he stated, recalling the moment when he had recently encountered the ruthless girl.
"I see. Well Hotaru always seemed to know exactly where Mikan was." Ruka briefly wondered when and how the two met.
Natsume's memory seemed to hit the 'rewind' button as the exchange between Mikan and her best friend played in his mind.
Mikan gripped the edges of the swatter and peeled her face off—it was patterned with squares that were pressed firmly on her skin. "You're horrible, Hotaru! You've left Japan all summer and you come back just so you could finish me off!" She took a full minute to keep her feet balanced after she plucked herself off. Choking back on sobs, she struggled to say the words she wanted to say, "I've. Missed. You like. Hell. Damn it!"
"So this is where you've been. Good thing I planted that tracker on you so I could find you." She took a swift glance around the café before she turned to Mikan, "Did you change streets or cardboard boxes? Oh, nice upgrade on the clothing, Mikan, I see you've found an alternate solution to homelessness and bad taste." Effectively ignoring Mikan, the girl pressed a button on the swatter and it transformed into a miniature. She put this in her pocket—for later.
The scene ended there as one sentence leapt at him:
Good thing I planted that tracker on you so I could find you.
Then, as the sentence ultimately fell away into nothingness, it left a single word:
Tracker.
"Ruka," he pointed to the cell phone in his hand, "do you have that girl's number?"
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After grinning widely, he swallowed it whole as she enquired, "How do you like it?"
"Dewishush." Gulping, he tried again, "Dainty, buoyant, and fluffy! What is this scrumptious appetizer?"
"Howalon." Simply happy to see a happy face, she smiled a smile that was completely open and genuine.
He murmured slowly and sceptically to himself, "Never have I attempted an endeavour to walk and eat all at once." He gazed at her and was captivated by her sincerity in her expression. "Je t'adore." (I adore you.)
The use of his French lightly tugged something from Mikan's memory, like it was pleading her to remember.
She let it slide for now. "Oh! I understood that!" Her face brightened some more, evidently pleased with herself. "'Je' means 'I,' or in this case, you," –she pointed to his chest— "And 'adore' means adore—like English! You adore Howalon, right?" She beamed. "I adore Howalons, too."
He bit back a smirk, unsure whether or not he should tell her what she had missed in his French.
She popped another treat in and skilfully savoured it. "So you mentioned that you were looking for someone. Who are you looking for?"
Having no reason to lie, he answered frankly, "I am seeking my brother."
Mikan's eyes widened at the same time her hands clasped together in front of her chest while what she thought was his true story played in her mind. Judging from his weird speech, way of life, and what he has told me this entire time, he came from afar just to search for his long lost brother! How unfortunate! How tragic! How courageous!
What wonderful sibling-ship!
Noticing her wide-eyed reaction, his eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Are you having an epiphany?"
Inspired, she made up her mind instantly, "I will help you!"
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The nearest diner was just a block away from the stranger's previous random direction of choice. It nestled quietly between a salon and a spa, making it a very smart business location to be as it attracts several female customers, who wish to have a quick bite here and there, and males, who would like to meet these females in the most non-feminine diner on this corner.
Finally seated, Mikan handed him a menu, "Have whatever you want. I recently got my pay check."
The stranger glanced at it, evidently unfamiliar with its contents.
"Right, how inconsiderate of me!" She plucked the menu out of his grasp. "Excuse me!" The waiter rushed over. "One breakfast special, please." The waiter nodded and left with the menus in hand.
She turned her attention back to a look of confusion. "You're not used to this kind of food, right? So we'll just have one so you can try it and see if you like it. I said you can order anything, but I like to save whatever money I can save."
"Merci beaucoup."
(Thank you very much)
The tug was there again. What did I forget?
"You're welcome!" Pleased with herself for understanding him, she proceeded to make small talk. "I've been wondering this for awhile now, but why are you wearing sunglasses and a cap now? We're indoors."
"Ah..." He thought hard for an excuse but came up with none. "I would appreciate it if we did not discuss it."
"Sure." Always the jolly good fellow-woman, she conceded to his wish. Resting her arms on the table, she leaned forward. "Okay. What's your name, then?"
"What is yours?"
"I asked first!"
"Ladies first." He gave her a successfully annoying, chivalrous smile.
"You're such a gentleman." She narrowed her eyes at him, showing him she was sarcastic. "Mikan Sakura."
He slipped his fingers under hers and brought them close to his lips. "It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Miss Mikan." His lips brushed over her knuckles delicately.
Multiple shades of red played across the surface of her cheeks as her shoulders shrugged up in shyness. "W-well...um—n-nice to meet you, too." He's like a prince, she thought dreamily. "And your name is?—"
"One breakfast special." The waiter broke the spell and set the large plate with fresh-smelling bacon, eggs, hash-browns, and two slices of toast. "Anything to drink?"
Not at all deterred, Mikan went with the flow. "Orange juice, please."
"Coffee. Black."
"I'll be right back." The waiter gave them a patient and professional smile.
"English breakfast," he stated it simply.
"That's right, this diner specializes in Western foods." She passed him a fork and gestured for him to take a bite. "Try it."
Mikan watched, mesmerized, as his hand elegantly moved over the plate.
Perhaps it was the angle or maybe even the lighting of the diner, because at some point between the time he forked a slice of bacon and brought it closer to his mouth, Mikan had impulsively reached for him.
In the next second, the fork was dropped to the table and the slice of bacon was falling with a loud splat against the diner's once-decently-clean floor. With his hand held securely in both of hers, she examined them, trying to identify its familiarity to her. "I'm sure I've seen these wide-palmed hands before..."
She remembered a thought she had a long time ago that included that exact description: Add that to the long, lean body, and superbly wide-palmed hands that clenched and unclenched during his sleep, he made quite the package.
For whom did she think that for? Whose hand did she recently study?
Politely leaving her to her own thoughts, he noticed that some of the grease from the little incident found a place on her sleeves. Having a napkin in his other hand, he moved to wipe what he could,"Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît." (Please excuse me)
Then those previous tugs were not tugs any longer, they became a small, resounding 'click'.
She was not supposed to be eating breakfast with a stranger whose name she did not even know. In the midst of her screaming and shouting and cursing this stranger who literally swept her off her feet, she had forgotten a couple of very important people and a very important lesson.
She was supposed to be at Café D'Amour, learning French with Ruka and Natsume. Natsume...whose hands looked and felt exactly like this, she thought. Coincidence?
She lifted her gaze from their hands to his sunglasses-covered eyes. "Who are you?"
He opened his mouth, prepared to tell her his full name when the doors to the diner were pushed open with incredible force. The intruders became the focus of all who were in the diner, but due to the morning sunshine, they were tall, dark silhouettes.
But Mikan saw one of them so plainly and visibly, it almost hurt her to continue staring in wonder. "Natsume." His name left her lips before she could stop them.
The stranger's squinted eyes snapped back to her. "Pardon me?" But Mikan's eyes were focused on the taller, darker figure that was approaching their table—fast.
Natsume's eyes were trained intensely on Mikan while he slapped his hand on the side of the table closest to her and towered over her. His voice was soft, but it sounded vastly cross, "What are you doing here?"
Both shocked and scared from the anger in his tone, she felt it was not a time to give him a clever-witted answer. Instead, her gaze slowly rolled towards her breakfast companion, hoping that that would somehow explain itself.
Natsume shifted his focus to the direction Mikan's eyes showed him. Another look of ferocity flashed across his features when he realized that the man sitting across from Mikan was the one who was very much responsible for her disappearance.
Without so much as a word, his fingers moved rapidly and removed both the man's sunglasses and hat.
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I didn't exactly understand what happened next, but as soon as Natsume saw the face of the stranger, his expression showed two things: familiarity and incredulity. Did they know each other or something? It may be the stupidest thing to connect them by their hands but...
The stranger smiled openly with his straight and perfect white teeth, also having the same look of familiarity towards Natsume. "Nii—"
Natsume cupped his hand over the stranger's mouth rather roughly. "Youichi!"
And then collective gasps were heard in the room. That part was funny to watch because as soon as Natsume said it, he groaned out loud and then swore under his breath. A total 'Natsume-move.' Obviously, he didn't intend to say the stranger's name.
As always, I stared upwards as I thought. This time, I added several inaudible taps to my chin with a finger.
Youichi...Youichi...now why does that name ring a distant bell? Isn't he some kind of celebrity?
When I glanced back down, it was the weirdest thing because everyone was on the floor with their heads bowed and saying things like, 'Your Highness,' and 'Welcome, Your Royal Highness Youichi de Castille.'
...Your Highness? His Royal Highness Youichi de Castille?
Then my mind did its most natural thing to connect the dots, it began to list all and every indication throughout our time together to further prove his identity:
He can speak French fluently.
He talks with unwavering formal speech.
He's weird. Like the king, maybe?
I spent a full hour with a royal prince from a royal family.
I cursed him and I threatened him.
He carried me for about a block; over his shoulder.
I tried to punch his face.
Instead, I pounded his back.
I tried to feed him BACON.
Don't people get put in jail for these kinds of things?
Something I think called a...Royal Felony?
...
Feeling the first sign of panic, I felt my temperature rising. All those stupid clues stupidly yelled out, 'PRINCE, PRINCE' to anyone who spent the day with him as I did. No one will believe me that I had NO IDEA!
What if they really DO throw me into an iron cage and then lock it up for good?
For forever!
Darn my luck! I just passed the age to go to Juvie last year...
I have a future ahead of me!
I think.
For a fleeting moment, I ceased my inner torture and noticed that during my enlightenment, Natsume had been whispering intensely with the prince.
THE PRINCE!
And then I think I started hyperventilating before I passed out.
I think.
Talk about shocking revelations.
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Sorting through the reports of his sons' latest escapades, he concentrated on each word and eyed each document vigilantly as a knock sounded on the large brass doors, "Come in."
"You called for me, Sire?"
"I did indeed. Take a seat." Walking over to his alcohol cabinet, he picked one of his finest and served it despite his guest's constant objection of how the king should not be doing a servant's work. "How is your daughter doing, Izumi?"
"She is doing remarkably well on her own, I believe."
"Has she forgiven you yet?" Aware that he has hit a nerve, he encouraged him to drink. "It has been years, hasn't it?"
Taking a small sip, he sighed loudly. "I am almost sure she has forgotten everything about me."
"Well sure. She thinks you walked out on her and your unfortunate wife-plus, she hardly knew you before you left." When he witnessed his friend grimace from his comment, he felt sorry to have spoken so bluntly. He decided to get straight to the point, "What I need to tell you involves your daughter."
His eyebrows drew together, unable to determine whether the next bit of news would be good or bad.
The king relaxed and smiled, clearly having a good time messing with his good old friend.
"It is good news—nay, excellent if I may say so myself."
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Author's Note: Before any of you give me a review concerning the personality of Youichi, I'd like to remind you that he was just a mere child in the original story. In my story, he is a teenager and was also raised in a way would make him a playboy. If you paid any attention to one of the previous chapters, Mikan mentioned that he was well-known as one, too. So please consider those facts before anything else!
Red Strings of Fate
