Disclaimer: I don't own GA.

Chapter Eight: Good Night

That Friday evening, Mikan Sakura was not okay. She was utterly stunned, for she could not believe that she had singlehandedly suggested going to her mentor's house this weekend, to cook for him…!

In that moment when she had suggested this little rendezvous, she had felt that she had done something very brave, for usually she was not the type to initiate, but now she wondered if she had been possessed by a delusional spirit in that very moment.

"I mean, do you think that he thinks I'm just throwing myself at him? Do I come across as desperate? What if he thinks I'm pathetic?"

Hotaru sighed for the hundredth time that evening, before turning away from the television to speak directly at Mikan, "For the millionth time, there is no way Mr. Meanie is not happy at this turn of events. I will bet all my profits from the LED mask that he is bloody ecstatic that you are going to his tomorrow night."

Sumire, who kept her eyes on television, chimed in, "Mikan, he's told you straight that he likes you! Why on earth would he be unhappy at the turn of events? To him, this is a dream come true!"

Mikan stopped pacing up and down the living room and finally joined her two friends on the sofa, squeezing herself in between them.

"I'm just so nervous! I keep thinking what if—"

"I'm just going to give it to you straight," Sumire interrupted her, shifting to give herself more space, "This is how it's going to go: you are going to arrive at his flat, you are going to cook food, and then for dessert, Natsume Hyuuga is going to have you —"

"No!" Mikan insisted, "No, no! I'm not going to have…" her cheeks burned, scarlet.

"Mikan. You are 26. There's nothing scary about the word 'sex'," came Hotaru's deadpan voice.

"I-I mean, we're not dating! We can't."

Sumire joined in, "I mean, technically speaking, you can. Who cares if you're not dating him! You probably will sooner or later, considering he likes you and you've finally admitted to yourself that you like him too. Might as well go for a test drive before purchase, if you catch my drift. It's always a good idea to inspect and review the equipment before usage."

Hotaru groaned in disgust.

The scarlet had subsided to a pretty pink. "I… I just want to make him a nice dinner and tell him how I feel. That's all I want from tomorrow."

Hotaru clapped Mikan on the back. "Good. So that's what you'll get. You don't need to do anything you aren't comfortable with."

"Honestly, I don't get why you are so nervous! He likes you: the hard part is over," Sumire assured her, "now comes the fun part!"

Mikan grimaced at Sumire's words. Fun? This felt anything but fun—her stomach felt as if it were dancing wildly alone, jutting and spasming every two seconds. She felt that her breathing felt irregular too: the very air around her seemed thin, dissipating away, suffocating her. She could not believe how intense the anticipation of seeing Natsume was, and she was genuinely concerned about tomorrow.

What if she fucked up the cooking? What if, after seeing her outside the workplace for the second time around, he realised that he didn't like-like her? She would be devastated! Now that her own feelings towards Natsume Hyuuga were so strong and clear as crystal, she did not know if she could gracefully handle rejection from him. If he did not accept her confession tomorrow, she would want to shrink herself and crawl into a small hole, never to emerge again.

Mikan's phone buzzed. Her head snapped in the direction of it—lit up on the coffee table, she could just make out her mentor's name. Immediately, she lunged for it.

"Jesus, Mikan—"

"It's him, it's him, it's him!"

"Is it normal for a 26-year-old to act like this? Tell me, is she just going through puberty now?" Hotaru muttered annoyedly, looking at Sumire.

"Stop it—she's just excited," Sumire reprimanded, but was sympathetic to Hotaru's grumbles, "you know she didn't really go through this in high school."

This was true—Mikan had been too preoccupied with friendships, after-school club activities and spending time with her grandfather when she was in school. Hotaru, conversely, had been too preoccupied with her studies.

"I didn't either, but you can bet my right hand that I won't ever get like this for a man!"

"—it's him, it's him, it's him!"

"We get it!" Hotaru cried, grabbing Mikan's arm and pulling her back on the couch between her and Sumire. "You'll hurt yourself if you keep jumping like that!"

"What did he say?" Sumire asked, leaning in, peering down at Mikan's screen.

"It's his address!" Mikan marveled.

"Ooh! Where does he live?"

Mikan read his address out loud.

"That's not too far, that's good," Hotaru said, now leaning in and peering at the message herself. She pointed at his icon picture, "What's that?"

"Oh, it's his parents' cat, Romi! Isn't he cute?" Mikan clicked on his icon to make it bigger so that her friends could see the little black cat better. "He's just the cutest thing, isn't he? Hyuuga-san says he's quite cheeky and likes to eat strawberries! Can you imagine, a cat eating strawberries—"

They did not seem too interested in the cat—Sumire interrupted and asked Mikan to show the message on the screen again.

Pouting, Mikan closed the icon and returned to his message.

Hey. For tomorrow, my address is XXX. Please give me a list of the ingredients you need. I'll go buy everything in the morning. Thank you and have a good night.

"It's… so formal!" Sumire giggled, "Like he's writing a business email!"

"He's always polite in text!" Mikan dreamily said, clearly besotted. "It's so cute, right?"

"Mr. Meanie is always polite in text, did you say? And that's cute? How?" Hotaru double-checked, laughing too. "My goodness, Mikan, you're hopelessly devoted now."

"He is really sweet, you know…" Mikan shyly muttered, feeling herself get embarrassed again. "He's a real gentleman! … I just hope he'll accept my feelings… what if—"

"Here we go again!" Sumire groaned, rolling her eyes. "You are in a loop, woman! A loop!"

Mikan's phone buzzed in her hand. She jumped in her seat as if her phone had electrocuted her. Instantaneously, her worried expression melted away as she eagerly brought the phone closer to her face to inspect it. It was another message from Natsume, that read, "My doorbell isn't working, so please knock on the door when you arrive."

Her worries temporarily forgotten, Mikan swooned all over again. "He's so nice!"

"A loop, I tell you. A loop…"

"Cue her existential 'what if' speech in twenty seconds time…" Hotaru sniggered.

Oblivious to her friends' teasing, Mikan enthusiastically cried, "I need to reply! Help me!"

"Well, what do you want to say? You need to tell him what you're cooking so he can get the ingredients."

"What are you planning to cook?" Sumire asked.

Mikan pursed her lips. "I think… Japanese curry? I can't go wrong with that. And that way, he can freeze the leftovers for himself. Did you know he hasn't had a home meal—"

"—since New Year, yes Mikan, you've told us a million times since Thursday…"

"I'm just so worried for his health! It can't be good to live off take-outs and eating outside all the time. To live a healthy life, you need to eat a hearty homemade meal!"

"Grandpa Sakura, is that you?"

"Stop teasing, I'm serious! But yes," she returned to the subject at hand, "I'm thinking curry. But I think I want to get the ingredients. I don't know if I trust someone who's never cooked to pick out the ingredients. He might get all the wrong brands…"

Sumire laughed, "I guess you are loyal to the Kyoto brands."

"Of course! And not to mention, I want to surprise him. Let me tell him…"

Mikan began crafting her response back…

Good evening! Thanks for all the info :)
I will go to the supermarket myself and get the ingredients. That way, it will be a surprise! See you tomorrow. Good night :)

She showed her friends, "Too many smiley faces? Do I sound too keen?"

Both friends read it quickly and silently. When they were reading it, they could hear Mikan's warm voice saying every word.

"It's perfect from you," Hotaru approved, "he'll probably get giddy as shit to get a response like that from you."

Sumire concurred, "Yep. It's very you. And considering he likes you, it's perfect."

Encouraged, Mikan smiled. Then, she pressed the send button.

Quite quickly, Natsume responded back: Okay. I look forward to the surprise meal. Also, let me know tomorrow how much the ingredients were so I can pay you back. Good night.

Hotaru whistled, impressed. "I love a man who pays."

"You'll love anything that pays for you!" Sumire corrected.

Meanwhile, Mikan looked at her phone rather lovingly. Her eyes traced the words 'good night'. She could hear his deep voice in her mind, saying those words to her. Her heart clenched; she wanted nothing more to hear those words from him in person. She wished so badly for a future where the last thing she would hear every day would be Natsume's 'good night', in his kind and gentle voice. For a tender future together where he'd wish her sweet dreams from near or far, from the phone or in person and where she would be able to say those words back to him as warmly as possible.

For a few seconds, Mikan seemed perfectly content. But then—

"But guys… What if—"

"Ugh, Mikan! Enough!"

"Stop this loop!"

Mikan had searched for the supermarket nearest to Natsume's flat on her phone on Saturday morning. It was only a five-minute walk from his place, and a ten-minute walk from the train station.

When she had got off at the station, she looked around the surrounding, marvelling at how this must be the very scenes Natsume sees every morning and evening on his commutes. It was a relatively small station, in the quieter parts of Tokyo. Not many people were gathered at the platforms on that Saturday morning, and she was amused to find a yawning cat by the exit. Two children were crouched down beside it, giggling at the cat's apathy.

This sweetness momentarily dulled Mikan's nerves. But as she walked to the station, the nerves crept back up.

No matter how much her friends had told her everything was going to be okay, she still felt terribly nervous. She supposed it was because she felt that she had so much to lose: if Natsume declined her confession, told her that he did not want to be her boyfriend, she would be heartbroken. Genuinely and absolutely gutted, a gaping wound, a mourning lamenter. And to make things worse, she dreaded to think how awful and awkward work would become after such a rejection.

She tried her best to be positive, and she reminded her of the facts (he admitted that he had a crush on her; he's been so attentive to her recently; they're always together at work; he's so kind and sweet to her), muttering them out-loud like a mantra, her footsteps acting as a steady beat to each word.

Once she reached the supermarket, she managed to find all the ingredients she wanted relatively quickly, and as she lined up at the cashier, she glanced at the time. She was okay. She was right on time. She breathed steadily.

Once she left the supermarket with all the ingredients packed in her tote bag, she begun reciting her mantra again, letting the constant clap of her footsteps accompany her words.

It's going to be okay. Whatever happens, I'll be okay. Natsume said he likes me. It'll be okay.

From the supermarket, his flat was just a straight road down.

It's going to be okay. Calm down. Natsume is kind. He said he likes you. Natsume—

She did not which stopped first, her mantra or her footsteps. Her mouth fell open in both utter jubilation and surprise. Natsume Hyuuga was walking down the road towards her, jogging down to get to her quicker.

"Hyuuga-san!"

"Hey," he stopped in front of her and exhaled deeply before smiling at her, "I thought I should come pick you up."

"How did you know where I was?"

"It's just one road. I was going to wait for you outside the supermarket."

"But what if I was late?"

"You're never late," he said knowingly, his smile as kind as the sunshine.

Mikan blushed. She could not get enough of her mentor!

"Here," he continued, extending his empty hand, "I'll hold the groceries."

Mikan had thought he had put his hand out for her to hold. Just the thought made her blush even harder. Her hand was shaking slightly as she passed him the tote bag with a sincere thank-you.

Together, they walked back to his flat. They fell so naturally into conversation, Mikan vaguely wondered why she had been so nervous. True, Natsume Hyuuga did make her heartbeat incredibly fast, and did make her blush like nothing else in the world, but it was so easy to be herself around him. She felt effortlessly buoyant around him—as if he managed to pull out her best side, like a magnet calling.

"You look really nice," Natsume complimented, as they took the stairs up to his flat.

"Oh, thank you!" I chose this dress with you in mind, she thought to herself. "You look really nice too." She said those words without much thought, but immediately saw that they made Natsume blink in surprise and turn his cheeks red. "Oh, sorry! Is that weird to say to a guy? I'm sorry—I don't really have any male friends, so I don't really know how to compliment men… unless you count my grandfather, but I don't think family counts, especially when they are pretty ancient…"

"N-no, it's not weird," Natsume blurted out. He coughed rather awkwardly, startled by his own abruptness, before he added, "I mean, it's not weird when you say that to me. Just make sure you don't go complimenting other guys and you're all good." He turned to grin at her rather devilishly. She matched his cheek in the smile she returned.

He led her to his front door. Smoothly, he unlocked it before opening the door before her. "After you,"

"Thanks!" She stepped in. Immediately, she was struck by the smell of his flat. "Wow, it smells so good!"

Natsume cleared his throat as he closed the door behind them. "It's, uh, some diffuser…" (little did Mikan know it was a diffuser that Natsume's best friend, Luca, had gifted to him last night…).

They both took their shoes off and Natsume led her towards the small open-plan kitchen and dining area. Mikan was impressed by how bright and clean Natsume's flat was. The blinds were up, his grey sofa looked comfy and the plant in the corner of the room looked like it was thriving.

"You're a plant daddy!"

"I-I'm a what?"

Mikan pointed to the plant. "A plant daddy! That's your plant baby, right?"

"Oh, right. Uh, yeah, I guess…" (little did Mikan know this plant's real 'daddy' was Luca. He had only adopted this wretched green baby for today, to 'spruce up' his room—Luca's words, not his!)

"That's a cool painting. What is it?" Mikan asked, pointing towards the artwork that hung behind his television.

"Uh…" Natsume looked at it, and squinted at it as if it was also his first time in inspecting the painting too, "… some field, I guess? Or maybe it's a football pitch…"

(It was Natsume's first time looking at it. Luca had also loaned him this damned painting, and had hung it up last night, insisting that Natsume's flat needed more colour.)

Mikan looked at him, both bewildered and amused by his own confusion. He caught her quizzical expression, and abruptly cleared his throat, "A-Anyway… uh… would you like a drink?"

"Sure! What do you have?"

"Everything," Natsume went over to his fridge and popped it open. Mikan followed him and looked in too, surprised to see that Natsume's fridge looked like a convenience store. There was no food in the fridge, but it was stocked with all sorts of cold teas, juices, fizzy drinks and even those healthy yogurt drinks.

"Wow! You do have everything!"

(Little did she know he had raided his nearest convenience store early this morning, to buy all these drinks for her)

She ended up choosing grape juice, and he pulled out an oolong tea for himself.

"Some of the ingredients need to go in the fridge. Can I?"

Natsume nodded and moved away to give her space. She rummaged through her tote bag and unpacked the groceries. Here, in Natsume's warm and nice-smelling home, Mikan felt comfortable. She absolutely adored that Natsume seemed a bit flustered too—she found it endearing and reassuring; reassuring, because it made her realise that she was not the only nervous one here. In her mind, she vowed to make Natsume feel comfortable and happy today, determined to make him a good meal.

Of course, the pressure of confession still loomed in her mind, but in his flat, Mikan felt okay. In his presence, she felt confident. She glanced up, only to see him looking intently at her. She smiled at him, and though he seemed as if he were caught off guard by it, he managed to smile back at her too.

"How much was everything? I'll pay you back."

"Oh, we can sort that out later," Mikan said, not caring for pennies.

"The journey here was okay?"

"Yeah! It was really pleasant. I prefer these 'downtown' areas of Tokyo. It's so relaxing."

"Remind me where you live?"

"Very central," she relayed her nearest station before adding, "It's Sumire's flat. You know, my friend. You met her that night—Shouda-shachou's daughter?"

"Yes, I remember. I expect nothing less from the CEO's daughter."

"Yeah, it's an amazing flat. My friend Hotaru also lives there too. It's airy, spacious and we have a big dining table. I guess to so many people in Tokyo, it's the dream, isn't it? Living in a penthouse flat with your girlfriends in your 20s. But you know," Mikan walked over towards the windows, and peered out, looking down at the empty streets to admire the quietness of the area, "I think I prefer being away from the hubbub! It's so nice around here."

She looked behind her; Natsume had sidled up to her, and together, they peered outside the window.

"I don't think I see what you see," he said to her, in that deep voice of his, "All I see are dilapidated flats… oh, and you see that granny down there," he pointed and Mikan looked—it was a little old woman pulling her red baggage trolley, "her name is Kumiko Toda, and she is this area's boss. Everyone's scared of her."

Mikan laughed. "Even you?"

"Terrified," Natsume solemnly admitted, "I once threw away a can in the wrong bin, she saw, and she lectured me for an hour about how people like me are ruining the planet. But she can be nice sometimes… she sometimes gives me free fruit."

"See, that's lovely! I think in downtown Tokyo, people know each other's faces and names. You give each other gifts. It's more like the countryside, right? But in the central… I mean, I don't even know our neighbours' names!"

"You're from Kyoto, right?"

"Yeah, the outskirts of the city. I don't know, maybe I'm just a bit homesick so I'm trying to find pockets of the city that remind me of Kyoto. I just want more familiarity with strangers, I guess."

"Well, you can always move to this area. It's not too expensive,"

"Maybe one day… I need to save more money first."

"Mmm…"

She looked at Natsume; he was staring rather intently at her. She smiled at him, and his expression quickly mirrored hers.

"Are you hungry? Shall I start cooking?"

"Yeah," he answered softly, "I'd like that."

Like a cat, he followed her towards the kitchen area. She did what she always did first in the kitchen: she gathered all her hair in her hands to tie it up ponytail. Her hair was long, and she did not want it anywhere near her face or the food when cooking. Swiftly, she maneuvered her hands and her hair tie so that all her hair was pulled back neatly, and as she did so, she could feel Natsume's warm gaze watching her every move. His eyes felt like sunshine.

She then moved to wash her hands, and to her surprise and delight, Natsume joined her. He picked up the soap bottle and squeezed some soap in her open hand. She thanked him, and together they washed their hands clean. His bare arms pressed lightly against bare her. Mikan felt as if she were going to implode and melt away.

Even though Natsume had set out to help her cook, it soon became apparent to Mikan that he had not been exaggerating before—he really was useless in the kitchen. It took him time to just peel a potato, so Mikan kindly asked him to oversee the rice. Adoringly, she watched from the corner of her eyes the way in which he washed the rice and how proud he looked when he put the rice in the rice-cooker.

"Sit," Mikan told him, "I'm cooking for you!"

He obliged and sat at the island counter, where he could watch her cook closely. He tried to guess what she was cooking as she fried the onion, carrots, chicken and potatoes.

"Stew?"

"No,"

"Omurice?"

"What omurice has potatoes in it?" Mikan laughed.

"Oh yeah…"

"Well," Mikan looked up at him, "here's a big clue…" she pulled the curry roux out, "…ta-daaa!"

Like a child, Natsume's eyes widened appreciatively. "I love curry,"

"I'm glad! I've made a lot, so I thought you could freeze the leftovers for yourself—"

They continued to chat as Mikan finished off the cooking. Twenty minutes later, Mikan passed him a hot plate of curry and placed her own plate down, and together, side by side, they sat down on the island chairs and ate.

"Oh God, it's so good."

Mikan blew on her spoon, "I'm happy you like it,"

Natsume ate his portion ridiculously fast—not even five minutes had passed before he stood up to go help himself to seconds. When he went back for thirds, Mikan stared at him incredulously.

"I'm not usually this ravenous," Natsume explained to her as he sat back down with his newly loaded plate, "if I'm honest, I was nervous I couldn't eat last night."

Mikan paused, taking in Natsume's moment of vulnerability. "You were nervous? For today?"

Blushing ever so slightly, Natsume remained honest and did not waver: "Yeah,"

Mikan swooned, before leaning towards him and earnestly admitting, "I was too! All last night, I felt short of breath. Like," she pressed a hand hard on her chest, "I couldn't breathe properly. But you know what's strange? Now that I'm here with you, I don't even remember why I was so nervous. It's so easy being with you…"

"For me too,"

I love sharing my time with you, Mikan thought, and these words were on the tip of her tongue, ready to fall when Natsume's mobile phone started ringing.

With a childish scowl, Natsume pulled his phone from his pocket. "Sorry…" he pressed the red button to decline the call before he put his phone on silent, "it's my sister."

This new piece of information startled Mikan, "I didn't know you had a sister! Is she younger or older?"

"Younger. Her name's Aoi,"

"That's a pretty name. What's she like?"

"She's okay," he then looked at Mikan pensively before adding, "I think you two would get along really well."

Mikan was touched and thoroughly pleased by the implication. "I would love that."

It was so wonderful to speak to Natsume so intimately about his life, with no distractions of work or intruding eyes from colleagues. In his flat, Mikan felt free to do or say as she pleased, and she mentally crystalised his every word and action. She loved that she could focus solely on him, and that he could do the same with her.

When Natsume finished his third plate, he stood up to do the dishes. Mikan offered to help, but he said no. "Go sit on the sofa. Make yourself comfortable,"

She obliged and waited for him like a puppy. When he finished and came to her, her back straightened and she smiled brightly, waiting for him expectantly. He sat down next to her on the couch, before saying his thanks for dinner again.

"So, what do you usually do on a Saturday night?"

Natsume shrugged, "Play games, I guess," he turned to her, "Want to play?"

"Yes! What do you have? I'm only good at Nintendo games…"

He reached out for the remote and game consoles; he turned the television on as he passed her a console. They opted for a game of Smash Bros, but before they had even begun playing, Mikan knew she had no chance of winning—Natsume had already unlocked all the levels and characters. There was no doubt about it: Natsume loved to game.

Ten minutes in, Mikan was on the edge of the couch, eyes wide in horror.

"No! Yoshi! My poor baby Yoshi!" She cried at the television as Natsume's Pikachu sent another attack her way. "Dodge, dodge, dodge… ahh! Nooo!"

Natsume laughed, enjoying this spirited game of Smash Bros. He did not expect Mikan to get so passionate about gaming.

He was just about to launch his final blow, when Mikan shrieked a 'nooo!' before lunging at him, trying to grab his console away to thwart his imminent win. Laughing even harder, Natsume held up his console higher so she couldn't reach it, and Mikan fell against him, most of her body falling into his lap.

She tried to grasp the console once more, but it was too late—Yoshi was falling, and soon enough, the commentator's voice boomed, "Pikachu wins!"

"No fair—" Mikan turned towards Natsume, and that was when she realised their position. They were practically nose-to-nose—Mikan had never seen him up this close, and from this position, she could really admire his dark lashes. She saw how his eyes were trained on her lips. She blushed deeply, and to make things worse for her heart, he then looked back up and stared directly into her eyes. They held the gaze for what felt like a tense century before, unable to control her feelings for him any longer, Mikan snapped and made the first move. She pushed him down and pushed her chest against his, and her lips against his.

Natsume responded immediately and enthusiastically. Dropping his console, her brought both hands to touch her—he hugged her tightly against him as they kissed. Mikan's arms automatically moved to hold him too.

Then, reason flooded Mikan's mind; she pulled away, and pulled herself up, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry—I just attacked you—"

"Shh... come back," Natsume murmured, before taking her in his arms again and pulling her back down to kiss her.

With all anticipation bursting around them, Natsume and Mikan were triumphant, for they finally were where they wanted to be: in each other's comforting arms.

But Mikan pulled away once again—there were still important things that needed to be said—"Hyuuga-san…"

"Call me Natsume," his voice was pleading, needy even. As she was sitting upright, he moved up to follow her, like bees to a honeypot. He sat upright too and leaned over to kiss her all over again.

"N-Natsume-san—"

"Drop the 'san'…"

"N-Natsume, wait," she put a soft hand against his lips. He opened his eyes, and Mikan saw how they were smouldering, almost molten, like burning red coal. "I need to tell you something first,"

Her words sobered him up ever so slightly. "What is it?"

She breathed out deeply, in an effort to steady her dancing heart. She took the final plunge, "Natsume. I really, really like you. I… I want to be your girlfriend."

She did her best to keep her gaze steady, but she could feel her lips tremble ever so slightly.

Natsume reached out to her—his right hand cupped her cheeks, his thumb caressing her bottom lip very softly.

"Mikan, I want that too. I want you to be mine."

She clutched the hand that rested on her cheek, "I want you to be mine too. I… I like you so much!" For the second time that evening, Mikan lunged at him. With open arms, he caught her, nestling their bodies together as his lips sought hers once more.

"I'm—so—happy," Mikan gasped in between hot kisses, "I really like you—" now that she had said it once, she couldn't help but say those precious words over and over again. She felt so much love and gratitude in her heart—not only towards Natsume, but towards everyone involved in their journey: Sumire, Hotaru, Anna, Nonoko, his friends, even their manager, Narumi… she felt that she was exactly where she belonged, exactly where she had always been destined to reach.

True to Mikan's declaration on Friday night to her friends, Mikan did not stay the night at Natsume's. After a rather passionate make-out session on the couch, Mikan informed her new boyfriend that she needed to return home. Natsume did not jump for joy at this, but he did not sulk or complain, and he most definitely did not put any pressure on her to stay. He did, however, kiss her cheeks before asking whether she was free tomorrow to see him.

"Tomorrow? Sure!" she had agreed heartily.

"What about the movies?"

"Sure!"

Now, Mikan was sat on the overground train home. She felt as if her whole body was throbbing with pure happiness and pleasure, and every now and again, she just smiled to herself, remembering all the words, all the touches, all the kisses…

She knew that they had only just started dating, but Mikan felt as if she were already very close to falling in love with Natsume Hyuuga. She had never felt this way for another person before in her whole life. She couldn't believe it, but Natsume Hyuuga totally eclipsed her celebrity crush, Andou Tsubasa—Natsume, large and bright in her mind like the sun, and Andou Tsubasa, now as feeble as an ember.

She had just texted her friends, letting them know that she was on her way home. When her phone vibrated in her hand, she thought that it would be their reply, but saw that it was Natsume.

Hastily, she opened his message: Thank you for tonight, everything was great

She replied quickly, Of course! I can't wait for tomorrow, to see you again :)

Me too :), he answered with that smiley. See you at 1. Good night, Mikan

Mikan squealed out loud on the train. The man in the carriage glanced at her warily.

Good night, she texted back, signing it off with a pink heart.

A/N: sorry it took so long to get this out! Spring's long over now, and we've just finished summer over here too… ah well, you can read my Autumn story Night-Out now ;)

There will be a short epilogue for this story, and that will conclude my seasonal stories! (Summer is 'Summer Wine', Autumn is 'Night-Out', Winter is 'Golden' and Spring is 'Pretty in Pink)