A/N: things start getting darker here! yay! please note that I am incapable of writing something without a happy ending, so keep that in mind.

iii. everything is fine in heaven, but i'll never get to know.

Stamps on packages, stamps on letters, stamping requests and forms and envelopes and postcards and oh dear God why did everything need a verification?

His wrist was sore from writing down tracking numbers and using that stupid timestamp.

He was driving home, listening to the radio. The radio was tuned to an alternative music station, and the singer was screaming about love lost.

Natsume wondered why all the songs on the radio were about love. More people should write songs about never sleeping, about working menial jobs, about living in a shoddy apartment.

But probably not him. He wasn't exactly musically gifted, as his one year of learning saxophone proved.

The song ended and the show host started speaking.

"Wow! That one's always a crowd-pleaser, isn't it, folks?" The man chuckled. "Here's Kai, with the weather-"

Sunny and beautiful, they've been saying. A gorgeous spring day.

Natsume was squinting because the sunlight was blinding him.

"Enjoy it while you can, guys, because before you know it it'll be fall again!"

"That's right, Kai. The good weather always passes the fastest."

"Back to you, Ren."

There was the piercing sound of airhorns and Natsume reached over to change the station.

"There was a murder in my neighborhood last night!" Ren exclaimed once the news segment soundbite ended. Natsume's hand hesitated.

"No way!"

"Yep! Heard about it this morning. If you're living near the water tower, then you've probably heard-"

Natsume turned the corner onto the next street, tossing a glance at the water tower-

"Not much information has been revealed to the public yet, Kai, but-"

"Of course, of course."

"-But they're saying it was brutal! Blood everywhere!"

Another soundbite of a girl screaming, probably taken from a horror movie.

"The victim was the committee leader for housing in the area, Goshima Hijiri. He won the local election last October, do you remember?"

"You know I don't vote, Ren."

A "boo!" soundbite.

Natsume parked in the apartment lot, in his allotted space, and turned off the car.

Murders happened in this part of the town. Not all the time. Not even frequently, but if it was gonna happen, it would happen here.

"You didn't have to call," Natsume said into the receiver, eating a microwavable dinner. Spaghetti this time. Last night it had been orange chicken.

Ruka was hysterical. "Of course I had to call! The murder literally happened in the apartment building next to yours!"

"I've never even heard of the guy."

"So? It's dangerous! What if the killer finds you?"

"Why would he find me?" Natsume laughed. "I'm practically a recluse."

"It's your most attractive quality," Ruka bit out sardonically. "Seriously, Natsume! Just take care of yourself. They're saying this was similar to a murder in the next city over a few months ago. Maybe there's a serial killer-"

"Yeah, okay," Natsume said. "I'll be careful, but you too, then. If this guy's travelling around then you're in just as much danger as me."

"I'm already careful. That's why I called you."

"'Cause I'm not."

"'Cause you're not!" Ruka agreed fiercely. "You're the worst!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Natsume gave Ruka a quick, "Bye" and then hung up so he could eat his food in peace.

It tasted okay, better than anything he could make, especially in that kitchenette. No oven, only one burner on the "stove". A mini-fridge, one drawer for utensils, four and a half cabinets for storage.

The microwave. That was his kitchen. He used that everyday, for every meal, unless he was eating out, in which case he'd probably be eating healthier that night than he would otherwise.

Natsume sometimes watched movies on his laptop.

He tried to do that, to watch an old horror movie until he fell asleep.

The movie ended and he started a new one, though he was paying half-hearted attention.

The night air outside was starting to sound pretty good, especially the later it got. The sound of cars speeding down the street was fading and soon replaced with creeping silence. He checked the time on his phone.

2:36 A.M.

Natsume shut his laptop, uninterested in the movie.

He'd buy two things tonight, he decided. He could buy a snack, go out and eat it. Sit outside for a long time. Then he'd go back in and buy something else. Maybe a soda.

He walked toward the store ahead, while it was shining like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. There was a new deal on the onigiri, the signs said. He walked through the parking lot, relieved that there weren't any creepy thieves perched on the bumpers. He opened the door and the little bell rang above his head.

The cashier was asleep. Natsume felt a stab of envy.

He wandered around, looking for something in the store he'd want to eat.

He wasn't actually hungry, or thirsty, or really in need or want of anything. This was all just something to pass the time, to use up all his energy.

He was staring at a bag of chips on the shelf-really not interested at all, just too tired to move his body or his eyes-when the bell rang again and the sound of laughter echoed throughout the store.

It was probably Lemonade Thief, Natsume decided, pulling out his phone and checking the time only to realize morosely that he'd been staring at the chips for twenty minutes.

"Yeah, but I told her not to do that!" Lemonade Thief's voice said excitedly.

Natsume blinked in confusion and turned around himself to see if there was any way she was addressing him. Nope.

"She's not gonna listen to you!" another voice was saying, a deeper voice-a guy's voice. "She doesn't listen to anybody."

"Kuonji doesn't like that."

"I don't like that!"

More laughter from the both of them, Lemonade Thief and this mystery person.

They turned into his aisle: Mikan-Lemonade Thief-and the other guy, who was wearing a jean jacket that was too big for him.

"Rumplestiltskin!" Thief exclaimed. "I missed you!"

Natsume didn't have the energy to open his mouth. He thought maybe he could say something dismissive or even cruel, but he was too tired to even attempt it. So all he did was exhale through his nose and turn back to the chips.

"This is Tsubasa," the thief said excitedly. "And, Tsubasa, this is Rumplestiltskin, who won't tell me his name."

"Akio," Tsubasa guessed, only to start cackling at his own joke. "Wouldn't it be funny if I got it on the first try?"

Lemonade Thief laughed with him. "Yeah! Is it Akio, Rumplestiltskin?"

"No," Natsume bit out.

"We're here for eggs," the girl whispered. "We're out of 'em at the house and that's a shame."

"We also need rice," Tsubasa said.

Natsume shrugged, at a loss for how else he was supposed to display his absolute disinterest.

"He's cool, this guy of yours," Tsubasa commented. "Kind of funny."

"Isn't he? I think he'd like the others, don't you think?"

They were going to keep talking, Natsume realized. He didn't want to listen to them.

He forced himself to move, heading straight to the coffee station and filling a cup all the way to the top with black coffee. Without adding any sugar or cream, he downed it, ignoring the burn on his tongue.

He never slept when he got like this. It was harder for him to sleep in this state than in any other.

He'd get too tired to function, feel every part of himself shut down, his muscles, his bones, his heart. But his brain would keep ticking on, slower than usual, yes, but it wouldn't let him sleep.

If he drank some coffee and then went back to his studio, maybe he'd be able to get out of that state just long enough to fall asleep for a few hours.

"So," Mikan said, resting her arm against the counter of the coffee station. "Rumplestiltskin-"

"You have got to tell us your name, bud," Tsubasa was saying from somewhere behind Natsume. "I don't wanna have to call you Rumplestiltskin all the time-"

"Rumplestiltskin," Mikan said again firmly. "We were wondering if you'd like to come to our house tonight?"

"No," Natsume answered, pouring himself more coffee.

"Before you say no!" she exclaimed, grabbing his cup. "It'll be fun! And what else are you going to do, anyway?"

"Go to sleep."

"You are literally drinking coffee right now," Tsubasa stated, as if Natsume weren't aware.

"Please!" Lemonade Thief begged. "I've been telling them about you and I think you'd fit in really well!"

Natsume grabbed back his cup and drank that too, making eye contact with her the whole time. "I'm not walking ten blocks. So no."

"You remembered!" she rejoiced, hopping up and down. She turned to Tsubasa. "See, I told you he secretly likes me."

"Why do you always come here anyway, Mikan?" Tsubasa asked, now leaning onto the counter on the other side of Natsume. "There's another store much closer to us."

"That store doesn't have Rumplestiltskin!" Mikan poked Natsume's nose. "Also, the cashier here never notices me. That other store has two of them, even at 3! How am I supposed to get away then?"

"Maybe you need to get stealthier."

"This is easier."

Natsume glared hard at his coffee, ignoring the creeps bickering on either side of him.

"So, Rumplestiltskin," Mikan said, pushing her arm against his. "Did you change your mind?"

"Why would I have changed my mind?"

"Listen," Tsubasa said, mirroring Mikan and pushing closer against Natsume despite being an unwelcome stranger. "We've got food-"

"You do?" Natsume quipped.

"We've got booze. We've got weed."

"He doesn't care about that," Mikan argued, sounding strangely bitter.

"No," Natsume said. "That's the most interesting thing any of you has said this whole time."

Mikan frowned but opted to stay silent.

"My man!" Tsubasa exclaimed, holding his hand up for Natsume to high five. Natsume glowered at him instead, so the hand lowered sadly. "We're also all very hot."

Mikan walked away with a huff, and Natsume vaguely wondered why she seemed so bothered.

"I don't know if Kuonji is there right now-he likes to take off every once in a while. But if he is there, then maybe he'll talk to you."

"You're back to boring me," Natsume said, tossing his coffee in the garbage and fishing through his pocket for a bill to place under the cashier's arm for when he woke up.

"Hey, he's a super genius," Tsubasa snapped. "He's gonna be a star someday. A celebrity or something. You dismiss him now, but one day you're gonna turn on the news and he's gonna be headlining."

"If you say so." Natsume, having pushed the money under the cashier's sleeping head, was now ready to go. He put his hands in his pockets and headed for the door. "See ya."

"No!" Mikan's voice cried, but he was already out the door.

He had almost made it out of the parking lot when he heard the sound of footsteps running after him.

"Wait!" the girl was shouting.

When Natsume turned, he saw she was carrying a carton of eggs and Tsubasa was trotting after her, lugging a large sack of rice.

"I'm gonna have to stop coming to this store," Mikan said when she'd caught up to him, taking deep breaths to recover. "Because they're gonna catch me eventually. I just want to be able to still talk to you."

"Why?" Natsume asked, annoyed. "You don't even know me."

"I do!" she exclaimed. Tsubasa reached them and started fidgeting with the sack. "You and me have so much in common. We always end up here, in the middle of the night, and we have nowhere else to go. And even though you say you're fine on your own, I can tell that you're lonely."

"I'm not lonely," Natsume spat. "I have a best friend, a sister who loves me. I have a job. I talk with people all the time."

"You're alone," Mikan reaffirmed. "You need someone to take care of you, because we all do." Tsubasa nodded sagely from behind her. "I'd like to help."

"Not interested," Natsume said, ready to turn and leave again.

"Just meet them!" Mikan blurted, grabbing his wrist. "Just come with us for tonight. You're not doing anything else later, right? You can come with us, meet the others. You might really like what you find!"

"I doubt it."

"Hey," Tsubasa chimed in. "If you dig it, you can stay. If you're not into our scene, we'll leave you alone forever."

Mikan did not seem to like the sound of that, her frown from earlier settling on her mouth. "But I'd rather not leave you alone."

"Why?" Natsume snapped again. "You don't know me!"

Mikan bit her lip in lieu of answering, so Tsubasa continued speaking. "Come on, dude. One night."

Natsume sighed.

"For fuck's sake. Fine."

Natsume met Ruka in the third grade.

Natsume tripped some bullies in the hall when they'd taunted Ruka.

"I usually don't do anything when they do that," Ruka explained. "The last few times I did, I got in trouble instead."

"Okay," Natsume said. "I'll get in trouble for you, then."

Ruka was the best friend Natsume could ask for, but there was always that lingering issue bubbling under the surface between them, always that fact left unsaid that divided them.

You're not careful.

Natsume knew it, Ruka could feel it.

Natsume was always a step away from landing in detention, a punch away from getting expelled, a shove away from prison, a bad word from getting shanked in the street.

Ruka was responsible, smart, talented, careful.

He was there to pull Natsume from the edge, but he couldn't do that forever, not when Natsume was so unchanging, so determined to make his own life difficult.

"I'll get in trouble for you, then."

"Please don't."

But he always would anyway.

Natsume followed Lemonade Thief and Tsubasa down the sidewalk, watching the occasional car whiz by them.

You're never careful, Ruka's voice was whispering in his head.

Natsume pushed that thought from his head.

A couple of seriously annoying but otherwise harmless shoplifting druggies? What was there to weary of? Natsume could take Tsubasa in a fight easy, if it ever came to that, and the girl was obviously no threat.

So he followed them, just to get it over with, just so they would leave him alone forever after this.

The walk was long, ten blocks. The wind was getting sharper for some reason, and Natsume hugged his jacket around him, vaguely grateful that the chill was acting like caffeine.

Tsubasa chattered absent-mindedly for the duration of their journey, dropping names and inside jokes like they were supposed to mean something to Natsume. Meanwhile, Mikan kept her mouth closed, strange because the last few times Natsume had met her she'd been unable to shut up.

It should've been a relief, but it just made him uneasy.

"Here we are," Tsubasa announced upon reaching a small, dingy looking house. The yard was unkempt, the windows were broken, and the door was slightly off its hinges. "Mikan found this place for us. Isn't that sweet?"

"She should go into real estate," Natsume said dryly.

"It's a nice place," Mikan defended. "Just a bit of a fixer-upper."

"Just a bit."

The house was surrounded by a tall chain link fence on all sides.

Natsume looked for a gate, but Tsubasa just pulled on the fence in front of him to reveal that it had been cut there. He wriggled through the hole and then held the wire up for Mikan.

Natsume eyed the house. The paint job was cracked and old, the roof was falling apart, and there were rusted pails out front. Worse than all that though was the horrible feeling that the door led to an abyss. It looked an awful lot like abyss from where he was standing.

"Come on," Mikan encouraged.

Natsume, take care of yourself, Ruka's voice reminded. You're never taking care of yourself.

That was stupid. He took care of himself. He was the only person who could.

He moved under the wire.

Tsubasa opened the door by physically picking it up and then replacing it carefully when Mikan and Natsume entered.

The first thing Natsume noticed upon entrance was a terrible, musty smell, like something organic had been holed up there for years.

"It's not much, but it's home," Tsubasa commented.

Was that supposed to be endearing? The place was a sty! There were leaves in the corners, dust on every inch of the floor, cobwebs clinging to the ceiling. Candles were scattered haphazardly against the walls, providing very little light. It made Natsume's apartment look like an upscale condominium.

"You're squatting," Natsume said.

"Squatting is such a pejorative term," Tsubasa joked. "Nobody's using it, so why not us?"

"It's not like anybody's missing out," Mikan agreed. "It's not the Ritz. So who cares?"

"You brought him this time?!" a new voice cried from the hallway.

Natsume looked up to see a girl-about as old as Tsubasa-with dark red hair, rushing into the room.

"Is this Rumplestiltskin?" she asked, elbowing Mikan. "You finally convinced him to come home?"

"He was in the middle of judging Mikan's choice of housing," Tsubasa filled her in.

"This is Misaki," Mikan introduced excitedly.

"It's not like we have much choice," Misaki quipped, voice tight. Her eager enthusiasm had withered in seconds. "This is the best we can do."

Natsume didn't say anything.

"And, Misaki, this is Rumplestiltskin," Mikan continued, as if there was no hostility in the room at all. "Sorry about the lack of light in this place. We only have candles."

"No electricity," Misaki informed him, voice condescending.

"Hey," Mikan scolded. "He's my friend, so be nice to him."

"Only if he's nice to us."

"Anyway!" Mikan exclaimed loudly, turning to fully face Natsume. She had miraculously regained her voice upon entry to the house and she was somehow back to normal. "Let's meet the others."

"How many of you are there?"

"A few."

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the hall, past peeling wallpaper and damaged floorboards. There was one spot in the wall, right next to a door, where there was a hole, revealing the room on the other side to be a bathroom. Someone had probably punched the wall, Natsume inferred, wondering which one of them it was. It was a sizable hole all the way through, so it must have been someone strong and angry.

Mikan yanked him until they were in a new stuffy room, rank with the smell of weed, pillows and cushions all over the floor.

There were people in the room, sitting on the cushions: a man with long black hair, passing a blunt to the next person; a very skinny girl with curly hair, her legs crossed at her ankles and an infant in her arms; a bespectacled guy, giggling ceaselessly; a small boy collapsed onto a cushion, looking bored out of his mind; and a middle-aged man in the middle, smiling at Natsume as soon as he saw their group enter.

"Mikan!" the curly-haired girl exclaimed, her lips spreading into a warm smile.

"Mikan," the man said, leaning back in his cushions like he had no idea he was surrounded by squalor. "Introduce us to your friend."

"Right!" Mikan took on the duty enthusiastically. "This is Rumplestiltskin, my new friend from the store-"

"The lonely one," the man with long hair said. "We know all about him already."

Natsume felt himself grow tired again. The root of a sprouting migraine was digging into his skull.

"Yeah, well-These are my friends," Mikan continued. "There's Tono, Nobara and baby Hana, Megane, Youichi, and Kuonji."

"Persona's here too," Megane chuckled. "He's in the kitchen."

"Rumplestiltskin," Kuonji said, smug smile ever present on his face. "A cute nickname for sure, but we'd all love to know your actual name."

"Fuck off."

The room grew cold and silent in only one second. All eyes were on Natsume, and their gazes were not kind.

"What the Hell is your problem?" Misaki snapped.

Mikan laughed, putting her arm in front of Natsume a bit, as though to shield him from the nasty glares of everyone else in the room. "Geez, guys, chill! He's just rough around the edges!"

"Of course," Kuonji said. "It's no big deal."

With that, the hard gazes of the group melted.

Natsume blinked in surprise.

"You don't need to tell us your name if you're feeling shy," Kuonji said. "We're all feral cats here. A different breed, which is why we have to stick together. You can tell us your name when you're ready."

"Yes," Nobara-the woman with the baby-said. "We're happy to have you."

"Better sooner than later though," Tono said. "Or we'll end up having to call you Rumplestiltskin forever."

The room echoed with laughter.

"Mikan here was saying you might be interested in joining our family."

Natsume ran his eyes over the people on the cushions, the stains on the walls, the missing floorboards.

"Not in the slightest," Natsume replied. "Nah, fuck this shit." He turned around and shoved past Tsubasa, back in the hall, eager to get the Hell out of there.

"Hey!" called Mikan. "Hey, wait up!"

Natsume heard someone say, "Just let him go-who cares?" but Mikan kept calling after him anyway.

He ran into a tall man who was eyeing him with dangerous black eyes, but Natsume just walked around him, not in the mood for any of this.

He hesitated by the front door, awkwardly picking it up and then replacing it just the way it was when he was on the other side, on the safe side, out of that horrible house.

He hated how often Ruka was right.

He was just out of the fence, on the sidewalk again, home free, when a loud thudding noise brought his attention back to the house.

The door had fallen, and Mikan was running towards him.

"Nope." Natsume kept walking as she crawled through the fence.

"What's your problem?" she cried, sounding way too distressed considering they did not know each other well enough to warrant any emotions at all.

Natsume swung around to see that she was only a foot away from him. He flinched.

"My problem is that I don't know you. I don't like you. I don't wanna be friends. I'm not telling you my name because it's none of your business. My problem is that you dragged me here to meet your weird family in this ugly house you're squatting in. My problem is that you've been obsessed with me from day one and won't leave me alone! But my biggest problem is that all that shit in there?" Natsume pointed to the house. "That is fucked up. And I'm out. Your end of the deal was to leave me alone forever, right?"

He turned around again, for good this time.

"Please don't leave me here," Mikan whimpered, but Natsume kept walking.

Do I never take care of myself, Ruka? Am I always careless?

Natsume didn't sleep a wink that night.

A/N: we're gonna have a POV change next chapter, mwah 3