Author's Note: For the GA Discord Secret Santa event!
Thank you so much for being sooooo patient with this gift to my giftee, extenuatingcircumlocution.I got a little nervous because you're such a great writer, but I hope you like it!
There were two undeniable truths in Mikan Sakura's life. The first: her grandfather was dying.
Despite her years of nagging and accompanying him on visits to the doctor, Mikan could not stop the inevitable onslaught: Nonno Sakura was dying, decaying from living nearly a century like a fallen tree returning to the earth.
Thankfully, the descent was graceful. He wasn't hooked up to any machines, no loud beeping, no tubes; the image surely would have scarred Mikan. It was simply him, naturally crumbling in front of her.
And there was nothing she could do. Except…
"Find Natsume," he wheezed, "make amends and be happy." Though his eyes had grown weaker, they were surprisingly clear, insistent.
"I will, Grandpa," she promised weepily - she would have promised anything. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
However, the second undeniable truth in her life: she hated Natsume Hyuuga.
Peace.
Between Mikan's non-stop talking and Natsume's never-ending snark, the two rarely found peace. Yet there they sat in the sun room of the Hyuuga household, shaded with afternoon glow, dutifully studying and painting nails. The wind brought the smell of blooming roses from Mr. Hyuuga's garden outside.
However, their amicable silence was broken by the loud slam of the front door and clomping footsteps. "I'm home!" called out Aoi Hyuuga, Natsume's 12-year-old sister.
"So annoying," murmured Natsume, his pencil never breaking stride in its scritch-scratch.
Mikan's unconscious response: "She's your sister. You love her."
"Doesn't mean I can't find her annoying when she is."
Too engrossed in perfecting the edges of her manicure, Mikan merely hummed in acknowledgement.
And the peace resumed.
"So the day has finally come."
Mikan stopped her nervous cuticle chewing, a habit she still hadn't grown out of. "You make it sound so dramatic, Hotaru."
Mikan's ever-so-stoic best friend sipped her tea. "It is a dramatic moment. When we graduated, you swore you'd move on and never think about him until the end of time. And it looks like the end of time is, what, six years?"
"It's the end of Grandpa's time." Mikan's unexpected statement sobered both of them. "It isn't me asking. It's him. Do you know where Natsume is?"
Hotaru adjusted the edge of her teacup so it aligned exactly with its saucer. "Mikan, I knew all of our classmates' deepest secrets in high school. I successfully blackmailed dozens of them to do my bidding - while I was a teenager. I am perfectly capable of locating Natsume Hyuuga."
I've always known you'd ask.
"He's right where we left him."
The first snowfall came early.
"So pretty!" cooed Mikan, still trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue as she always had ever since childhood.
"It's so cold out here." Shivering, Natsume tried to tighten his coat around himself. His wardrobe was unprepared for the cold snap.
Mikan scoffed. "You run like a furnace. It's probably not even bothering you."
"Not true. Feel my hand." He stuck his hand down the back of her neck, eliciting a yelp and a jolt.
"Gah, Natsume! You're horrible!" Quickly, she gathered handfuls of snow and pelted him with misshapen balls.
He laughed, echoing in the winter wonderland. "Come here, I'll keep you warm."
Time had moved, done wonders for some of their classmates, but he was stuck. Working at Persona, one of the fancier restaurants in town, just as he had during high school.
Lunch rush on a Wednesday allowed her to blend in with the crowd of diners, gathering her courage through a warming soup appetizer and one of Hotaru's favorite dishes.
"Excuse me," she called to her waiter once she had finished her meal.
"Yes, miss?"
"This crab roe tofu was excellent. May I talk to the chef to pass along my compliments?" Mikan smiled brightly, hoping it didn't come across as nervous.
The waiter seemed encouraged by her expression. "Of course. I'll bring him to your table. We are so happy to hear you enjoyed your meal. May I clear it for you?"
Mikan nodded and tried not to chew her nails as she waited for Natsume's appearance, instead opting to twist her napkin around and around, just like her heart clenching and unclenching.
He appeared from behind the kitchen doors without announcement, his white apron the only indication he worked there. She remembered when she used to visit, right when his shift was ending, pulling him out of his apron, in a hurry to scurry off to the latest movie or hanging out with friends.
His face remained impassive, though she knew he must have recognized him, even from a distance.
Her assumption was confirmed as the first thing he said to her, after six years, was, "I thought even an idiot would be able to understand, 'I never want to see you again.'"
Mikan mustered a weary smile, taking a breath to fortify herself. "It's my grandpa. He's dying."
A long pause ensued between them, only the sounds of the cutlery clattering against plates and the apparently friendly conversations of others. He studied her critically, his red-tinted irises flickering back and forth across her face, and she steeled her nerves hard enough to look back at him.
Nothing about him had changed: not his messy haircut, not his small eyebrows that she had loved to tease him about, not the almost bored expression on his face that made her feel small.
Finally, Natsume sat down across from her and said, "I'm sorry to hear that."
"He wants us to make amends, to be happy." Straight to the point. All business.
Natsume rubbed the back of his neck, a telltale sign he was thinking, actually considering what she said. "I'm not sure I can do that for you."
"You can," she snapped, anger rising within her in a flash. She remembered how sick she was of hearing all the things he could not do. She let herself feel the harsh bitterness before slowly releasing the tension from her shoulders, from the fist she had unconsciously made. "You can come visit him. Pretend for an hour."
"Pretend what? That we're friends again?" Natsume's voice grew uneven, though he held it back, just as Mikan had. "Like the sight of me doesn't make you want to recoil?"
"The sight of you doesn't make me recoil," she insisted, unconvincingly through gritted teeth.
His eyes narrowed and he sat back, arms crossed. "You recoiled as soon as you saw me just now."
"I did not."
"Yes, you did. This whole interaction is painful for you."
"Because you're making it painful for me!" she near-shouted, gripping onto her seat.
Natsume's face hardened, and Mikan knew she was losing him, all over again. Yet he stayed, lingered just a bit to see Mikan slump and press her hand to her head, anticipating the coming headache. Perhaps he derived some sick pleasure of seeing her in defeat.
"Don't be stubborn, Natsume," she begged, keeping the waver out of her voice, "Please. My grandpa means everything to me. Come see him with me, and we can just… talk. You don't have to pretend to be happy. Just pretend that we're doing all right."
She looked away, her mind wandering to what she'd say to her grandpa if she failed to bring Natsume back and the negotiation techniques Hotaru had taught her and if Natsume was really worth all this trouble when -
"Yeah, I can do that for him."
"I got in! I got in!" Mikan's excitement reverberated through the entire house as she eagerly flew up to Natsume's room. "I - "
Natsume's sagged posture struck her like a blow, stopping her in her tracks. She could feel something was wrong. Thankfully, he held out the Alice University letter out to her to let her read his rejection for herself. Delicately, he plucked her acceptance from her hands to read about the future he would never have.
"I guess they're only letting in idiots, huh?"
"Hey!" The edge to his voice made her feel uneasy, but she knew he was joking. He always was. "I worked really hard to get in!"
"Hn."
Too late, she realized her insult. Hastily, she tried to soothe him. "I'm sure you did, too. I'm not sure why they would reject you. Maybe we can call them or something."
He merely grunted in response.
Mikan chewed her thumbnail. It wasn't her news to share, but… "I heard Koko didn't get in either."
"Wow, that makes me feel so much better," he deadpanned, and through his eyes, she knew he was saying, "I consider Koko an idiot, too, so of course why would he get in?"
"Don't feel so sad."
Almost propelled by the universe or maybe her instincts, Mikan leaned forward and kissed him, softly, a simple brush of the lips.
Voraciously, Natsume pulled Mikan's head closer and closer, intent on devouring her whole.
"Hey, old man."
The elder's face broke out into a smile. "Natsume!"
"The real deal, in the flesh." He pulled the chair closer to Nonno's bedside.
A beat too late, Mikan realized that if they had truly reconciled, she should be standing next to Natsume. As casually as she could manage, she hurried over and placed a friendly hand on Natsume's shoulder.
"Yeah, we had a little talk and we're friends again!" She beamed down at Natsume.
Holding up his side of the bargain, the corners of his mouth ticked up into that tight-lipped, almost constipated smile seen on photographs - Natsume's happy smile. He reached up his hand to cover hers. His palm was cold.
"There were a lot of hurt feelings on both sides, but I believe we've reached an agreement," he confirmed.
Nonno's shoulders relaxed, and the worry lines on his face faded. "That's good to hear."
For about an hour, they conversed lightly, about world events, about town happenings, about how Natsume had to whip into shape some of the Persona newcomers.
And for about an hour, they were Sakura and Hyuuga together again.
"I thought it was just us two hanging out?"
"Hi, Mikan!" chirped Aoi from the front seat.
"Mom said I had to take the little twerp, too. Said if nothing was going on between us," Natsume looked at her pointedly; thankfully it was too dark for anyone to notice Mikan's telltale blush, "Aoi would be perfectly content accompanying us. Now get out of the front seat."
"That's okay," said Mikan at the same time Aoi whined, "But I'm already here."
"Let her take the front seat, Natsume."
"She's too little. She could get hurt."
"I rode in the front seat the entire time from our house!" protested Aoi, her hand protectively over the seatbelt buckle.
"Yeah, and that was five minutes. We're going somewhere farther."
"Where are we going?"
"Yeah, Natsume, where are we going?"
"It's a surprise. Now into the back you go."
Grumbling, Aoi trudged into the backseat, slightly comforted by Mikan's wink and her whispered, "Next time."
As he'd tell the policeman later that night, he had planned to bring Mikan to the circus happening in the next town over. He had managed to purchase two tickets earlier, and he was thinking about if he'd be able to buy tickets there or if he should call ahead or if he should maybe dump Aoi at a friend's house instead when he hadn't seen the traffic light turn yellow.
He had already crossed the line when it turned red and he hesitated for one beat too many, about whether to run it or whether to stop in the intersection, that his slowed speed brought him right in the path of a driver already going too fast, seeing his light about to change to green and failing to see that his haste would take him right into Natsume.
Natsume's car spun once, twice, off the side of the road, and into the lamp post.
He tried to control it, he repeated to everyone afterwards, he knew he had been hit, something was off, the car wasn't turning the way he wanted until it had slammed to a stop.
He hadn't hit his head like Mikan had; he was painfully awake for every second that happened afterwards.
Cold air swirled around him. He looked first over to the passenger seat, where Mikan was slumped against the window, bleeding from the head but visibly breathing.
"Aoi?"
Then he looked back, only to see the wide open intersection and the debris of his miscalculation.
"Aoi?!"
"Everything's okay now, Grandpa," she said after Natsume had left. "I'm so glad he came, and we all had a good time."
"My body might be old, but my mind is still young. It is not so easy to trick." He paused, and Mikan knew the silence well enough from childhood to understand her grandpa was giving her the opportunity to confess.
"I did find Natsume. We did talk." She averted her eyes, choosing to engross herself with the liver spots and blue veins on the back of her grandpa's hands.
"But you are still not friends." His eyes closed, exhausted. "Really make amends."
"Isn't it something that he came to visit you with me when you asked?" she offered.
"Something, but it's not enough. He came, so you still have a chance."
"He came because he still likes you, Grandpa."
"And he stayed because he still likes you, Granddaughter."
Everyone was concerned after the funeral, but he had been especially ignoring her. That is - until she had ambushed him in his own house and, after seeing the look in his eyes, brought him back to bed, where she tried to fill the emptiness inside him with as much love as she could. And when it was over, she held him as he cried.
He could ignore her no longer, clinging onto her like a koala to a tree.
She performed her duties as his friend: stroked his hair, wiped his tears, embracing him hard enough for the parts of his heart to mend back together.
When his weeping subsided, she asked "You feel better now?"
"A little."
"Yay," she said softly. "You want some ice cream or something?"
Natsume released a deep breath, untangling himself from her to roll onto his back, tossing his arm over his eyes. "No, not really."
"Oh, okay." Mikan's mind wandered, thinking about lists and calendars and the book on grief she had skimmed before coming to his house and the steps it said to take.
"Did you call the admissions office yet?"
His long silence informed her that he indeed hadn't. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Everyone's worried about you. They want you to know that you're not alone and they're there for whatever you need."
"I know."
"So whenever you're ready to hang out again, we all want you to come to -
"Can we just," he burst out, his arms raising in frustration, "not talk maybe?"
Silence was rare for her, and just like Natsume's heart, she wanted to fill it.
"Are you sure you're okay? Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Stop talking," he said, as he had said many times to her before, always in jest, and Mikan failed to recognize the severity in his tone.
"Okay. But if there's anything you need from me - "
Abruptly, he rose from the bed, pulling on a shirt. "Can you go back home or something? I just need some space." He turned on his desk lamp and started sifting through random papers, though Mikan knew none of those were urgent to him.
Warning lights flashed in Mikan's head, but for the wrong reason. Space meant isolation, and Natsume shouldn't isolate himself, she believed. He needed to reconnect himself, with friends, with loved ones, with family.
She came up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Don't push me away."
"I'm not." He shrugged off her hands.
"That's exactly what you're doing now. You - "
He spun around, his eyes filled with a rawness Mikan had never seen before in the boy she had known since birth. "Don't tell me what I'm doing. Or how I'm supposed to be feeling. I'm angry and sad and heartbroken. You can't do anything about it so just leave it."
His words made her angry and sad and heartbroken. "Natsume, we just shared a wonderful, perfect, moment. Don't spoil it."
Already the warm magic was slowly disintegrating to bitter ashes.
Instead of making him see what she saw, her words incensed him. "I can't magically pretend my sister isn't dead. I can't pretend I'm happy when I'm not. I can't ever be happy again.
"Like - Y-You can't be happy? Even with me?"
"I don't fucking know. Leave me alone."
"No, Natsume, I'll never leave you - "
"Well, I want to leave you, and your bullshit optimism. Not every problem can be solved by smiling at it."
"Why are you saying these things, Natsume?"
"Because I - I don't want to be here with you." His voice hardened. "I never want to see you again."
"No - "
"Yes," he persisted. "I want some damn peace and silence, and I'll never have that with a non-stop chattering idiot who doesn't understand that I want nothing to do with her just because we fucked."
Then all the magic was truly gone, and Mikan realized she was looking at some twisted, broken, sad shell of a boy she had once known and never wanted to think about until the end of time. Aoi was gone, and she had taken Natsume with her.
Natsume still lived in his childhood home, but it had lost its childhood glow. The garden had long withered from neglect, the paint graying and in desperate need of a fresh coat. Despite Mikan's resistance to admit Natsume was in a bad place, she could only describe the house as "shabby."
As much as she pretended - as much as she didn't like him, she didn't want to think he lived such a desolate life. Though he had spoken of his work and mundane life with content and tranquilness, she wondered if he was truly happy.
Or if, indeed, he could never be truly happy ever again.
He answered before she could finish her knocking. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, stepping in when he opened the door and toeing off her shoes. As discreetly as she could, she looked around to see very little had changed. She thought maybe his Gundam collection was missing from a cabinet. A picture of Aoi still stood on a shelf, incense burnt out and a plate of small tangerines in front.
"Is your dad home?" she asked, filling the silence.
"Nah, his shift doesn't end until six. Tea?"
"Yes, please." She followed him into the kitchen, which hadn't been renovated, still reminiscent of the 90s. The old dishwasher still clunked, and the refrigerator hummed loudly. Mikan took a little comfort in that sound, something besides her talking to take up space.
"How is your grandpa?" started Natsume as the water boiled. Mikan neatly tucked her skirt beneath her as she took a seat at the wooden dinner table she once frequented, laughing and telling stories with Natsume and his father and his sis -
Her mind needed to stop wandering.
"He's the same. He's hap - grateful you came to visit. Thank you for doing that."
"Yeah, of course." He slid her a cup of steaming tea, the teabag string dangling limply over the side. "It was the least I could do."
"Yes, yes, thank you," she repeated, her mind already wandering to what she could possibly say and if she and he could ever reconcile and if she could forgive him for his harsh words -
"So how are you?"
"I'm happy now!" she blurted out, unable to stop herself. "I love my job, and my boss says I might get promoted soon. I live in a nice apartment, where it's always warm and full of light."
"Oh. That's good."
"I've seen other people. I've had a lot of wonderful first dates."
He blew on his tea. "That's good, too. Interesting, but good. Why do you bring that up?"
"Because I'm doing amazing, and everything else in my life is falling into place, and I have tons of friends that I hang out with, but the one thing - the one and only thing - I can't fix in my life is," she took a breath, "you."
"Who said I needed to be fixed?"
"Okay, well, maybe not you, but our friendship, our - relationship."
"Is that something you want fixed?" He reached behind him to grab a package of biscuits to eat with his tea. "Can't you just leave me behind? Actually, we're in a good place now. I've spoken with your grandpa. You know where I am. We've caught up. What more?"
"But are you happy? Are you happy living like - like this?" Her arms flailed wildly.
Natsume lowered the biscuit that was on the way to his mouth, his eyes suddenly wary. "Like what?"
"Like this? In this house? In this town?"
He had the audacity to roll his eyes.
"Did you just roll - "
"Mikan, for once in your life, shut up and listen." And so she did. Natsume half-snorted at her reaction. "God, I forgot how much you talk. No offense."
"None taken?"
"I like living like 'this,' though I don't know what you think of all of it. I like living here with my dad and going to work and talking to the people I want to talk to. I like living in peace." His eyes slid down to his tea. "Especially when I know I don't deserve it."
Mikan could feel something was wrong. If she could just say the right words or offer the right thing or love him the right way, things would be better. Things would be right.
But she had had a lot of time to reflect on what she would have changed, and things she would have done differently, on how she could have helped Natsume, on whether or not he was to blame for what he had said, for what he had done.
So for the first time in her life, she listened and let the silence fall.
For the second time of their lives, there was peace between them.
She sipped her tea and ate his biscuits, and when he had drained the last of his, at last he spoke.
"I'm sorry for what I said back then. It was hurtful, and I lashed out because I was going through a lot back then, you know, like grappling with the fact that I killed my sister." He nodded, more to himself than to Mikan. "I know what others said, that I couldn't have known, but I still felt so much guilt about her death and my mind wandered about all the possibilities. You know what it's like to be thinking about so many things?"
"I know what it's like to have your mind wander." Mikan wanted to reach out a hand, but she wasn't sure if physical touch was what he needed at the moment.
Natsume nodded again. "What if I had just focused harder on driving? What if we had left just a little bit earlier? If I hadn't argued with her? What if I had let her stay in the front seat? But then…" His voice grew thick, and though his watery eyes shone, no tears fell as he looked at her. "That would have meant you were in the back seat. And I hated myself for thinking it, but some cruel part of me thought maybe it should have been you. Maybe I would be happier if it hadn't been my sister, but my friend. My girlfriend."
Silence lay around them as they both comprehended Natsume's confession that he had not voiced to anyone before. Mikan's brow furrowed in concentration as she let it sink in, focusing on how she felt. She felt her eyes grow misty and her heart break, but not for her.
"It was an awful thought to have. So… I thought it would be best if you could just leave me behind in the past. And you were there, so willing and so loving, but you just never stopped talking, and all I wanted was space and silence to think," he closed his eyes and leaned back, "and peace to live in."
Together, they sat, Natsume at peace and Mikan with her mind wandering until at last she decided, though she might not say the right thing, she needed to say something.
She offered her hands, and hesitantly, Natsume reached for them. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend to you before. I should have realized you were breaking down from the burden of having to think of everything, and I should have listened better. I thought maybe if I loved you hard enough, you could let me in, but I understand now."
"Do you now?"
She paused, rethinking her words and her intentions. "Maybe I don't. I might never be able to give you peace or the redemption you've been looking for, but I can give you myself. I can give you a friend."
Almost in sync, with their hands linked, they brought each other closer. Mikan continued, "I forgive you for wishing I had been in the backseat. I forgive you for what you said as long as you forgive me for what I've done."
"I forgive you, I do."
For the second time in her life, as she held him, Natsume cried.
"It's okay, Natsume. I'm here for you."
And together, Sakura and Hyuuga moved forward.
Too young to know it gets better
I'll be summer sun for you forever
Forever winter if you go
- Forever Winter, Taylor Swift