Author's Note: This chapter is brought to you by the song "7 rings" by Ariana Grande.
SATURDAY
As they had planned, Natsume and Mikan took the weekend to start fulfilling her needs. The morning after their little cafe date and informal agreement to their arrangement, Mikan woke up, helped the younger children wash and get dressed, and then went outside when she received Natsume's text to find a sleek black car idling on the street.
At least it wasn't something flashy like a sports car, she comforted herself.
Mikan opened the door and slid in the backseat, smoothing down her mini-skirt so she wouldn't accidentally flash anyone. She had worried her street clothing wasn't exactly cool enough compared to Natsume's style, but was relieved to see him dressed in a nondescript hoodie, black pants, and white shoes. He was reading a manga, but closed it upon her entry.
"Good morning," she greeted with a smile, willing herself to not think about how they had kissed the day before.
But alas, Natsume leaned forward and pecked her on the lips, acting as if it was the most habitual thing in the world. "Good morning. You sleep well?"
"Uh, yeah. I slept okay." Big lie. She had slept terribly, replaying his tender kisses in her head, the ache in her nether regions making her restless; Mikan didn't know what it was, much less how to make it go away.
Even though she was sitting at the opposite end of the car, he reached out and entwined their fingers, resting their hands on the seat. "You okay with holding hands?"
"Yeah, I like holding hands." Another big lie. She didn't know if she liked it because she hadn't really held anyone's hand, only the little kids' when crossing the street or helping them. Natsume's hand was definitely bigger than any of the kids', softer and warmer, too.
Mikan tried not to focus on what he thought about her hand, lest she start sweating. When she was younger, she had warts on some of her fingers; he probably never did.
"Where do you want to go for breakfast?"
"Anywhere is fine," said Mikan, who had grown up with the constant need to make herself feel less of a burden, to always cause the least amount of trouble.
Natsume took her to a place where they enjoyed flaky, buttery croissants and little puff pastries on a balcony and watched passersby slowly start their day. His driver, Shiki, had his own little table and busied himself with his own business.
The first stop was the doctor's office. Mikan had thought medical buildings weren't open on the weekends, but she supposed that cash really did rule everything around them. It was a private doctor, and the waiting room was much more luxurious than any hospital she had ever seen.
They were the only ones there besides the receptionist, who looked like he wasn't used to waking up early on a Saturday and needed another cup of coffee. Natsume was texting on his phone while Mikan idled, looking at the fishes in the small aquarium and browsing the health magazines on the table.
"Mikan Sakura?" said the nurse, holding a clipboard. "The doctor's ready for you now."
They both stood up, and Natsume followed her to the door.
Mikan stopped and turned around, causing him to bump into her. "What are you doing?"
"Going in with you," he said plainly, as though it were the most logical conclusion.
Her face burned with the thought of him seeing her in only a thin medical gown. And what if the doctor found something wrong with her? "No, wait out here. This is private. I'll probably have to get naked and everything." Seeing his reluctance, she added firmly, "I don't want you in there."
Grumbling, he sat back down on the couch in the waiting room.
It had been a while since she had last received a physical, but the nurse seemed very thorough as she measured and prodded and squeezed every bit of Mikan's body. The doctor's examination also involved a lot of intimate questions and thorough investigation. In the end, the doctor concluded Mikan was a little underweight and had dry skin, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a bit of moisturizer and tender, loving care.
At the dental office, Natsume attempted to follow her in again.
"Why are you so interested in my oral health?" As she suspected, Natsume had no clue about personal boundaries; perhaps he was too used to getting what he wanted all the time that he wanted the oddest of curiosities.
"I just want to watch. It's not like you're getting undressed in there."
"You want to watch me get my teeth cleaned? Wouldn't you rather sit out here and look at your phone or read your manga? I'm sure they'd be more interesting than watching the dentist scrape plaque off my teeth."
"... I'll read my manga."
Along with the usual cleaning, Natsume had paid for a whitening treatment. Much to Mikan's relief, the dentist told her that she didn't need orthodontic work or fillings; her teeth would be healthy and cavity-free as long as she brushed and flossed adequately.
"Just don't eat or drink anything for 30 minutes to let the fluoride set in!" reminded the dentist as Mikan thanked her for her service.
They had lunch at Ibaragi's, a higher end restaurant that Mikan would never consider going to alone. Natsume paid, of course. For dessert, he treated her to chocolate-covered strawberries, and of course, he helped her lick the chocolate off her mouth.
The last stop for the day was the salon because her appointment there would take up the entire afternoon.
"Our appointment, really," Natsume mumbled. "I've been so stressed lately."
Mikan wondered, with everything within his grasp, what he could possibly be stressed about. "You're getting a spa treatment, too?"
He flashed her a smug look. "Of course, how do you think I look this handsome?"
Rolling her eyes, she didn't bother with a response, watching the streets pass by, her hand safely wrapped up in Natsume's. They rolled up to a salon called Tachibana, with a bubbling fountain and trees with thin, spiky leaves lining the driveway.
Though she insisted it wasn't necessary, Mikan waited for Natsume to open the door for her. "I didn't know these kinds of trees grew here."
"They're imported," he informed her, taking her hand once again. "I'll text you when we're done, Shiki. Take the afternoon off."
Shiki nodded before pulling away, leaving Mikan with no escape route, no other choice but to take whatever Natsume had deemed necessary for her.
Once they stepped through the doors, Mikan's nose was bombarded by so many different aromas, but they all mingled together pleasantly: clean shampoo, warm sand, calming lavender, fruity sprays.
"Welcome in, Mr. Hyuuga," said the receptionist, flashing a bright smile. "Here for your 2 o' clock appointment?"
Natsume nodded, leaning against the counter and pulling Mikan to his side, arm around her shoulders. She tried her best to look politely peppy as the receptionist typed in a few words into the computer.
"So for today, we have you both for the Platinum Deluxe Package, which I see you've already customized. Thank you. Would you like to be in the same room or have separate rooms?"
"Same room," answered Natsume before Mikan could say otherwise.
"Right this way then."
Despite Natsume requesting the same room, Mikan was escorted first to a private room and told to change into a fluffy robe, stripping even her undergarments.
Mikan had no clue what a Platinum Deluxe Package included, but she knew she would enjoy it as she lied back onto a cushioned table and three attendants began gently exfoliating her skin. She had done her best the night before, during a rare long bath, but nothing could beat the satisfying sight of their sugar scrub coming away gray, leaving fresh new skin, the softest it had ever been in her life.
"Wow, that was all my dead skin?" Mikan asked in awe.
The closest attendant, a girl with dyed blonde tips, didn't look as impressed. "Yep."
"And what's that?" Mikan nodded her chin at another attendant mixing a thick goo with a stick.
"Wax."
Unconsciously, Mikan jerked. "Wax? I'm getting waxed today? Is it going to hurt?"
The girl's smile was tight as her fellow worker began smoothing the warm wax on Mikan's legs. "Just relax and stop talking."
Breathing through her nose, Mikan stared at the ceiling and squeezed the table tightly as they pulled strip after strip of hair off her legs and her underarms. The waxer winced sympathetically and offered Mikan frequent breaks, but Mikan tried to tough it out.
"All right, now, just hold your legs up for us, just like that," murmured the attendant, positioning Mikan's legs in the air, knees apart. The robe fell down around her waist, and Mikan was keenly aware she was bare underneath.
"Wh - what? Uh, where are you waxing?"
"The bikini wax was added to your spa package. We would have liked you to prepare a bit beforehand, trim it up, but that's okay. We can work with what we have."
The attendant smiled reassuringly at Mikan, but she could only blink in shock, her face unable to decide to pale in horror or redden with the thought of someone looking at her private area.
Her expression was enough to cause the attendants to cluck in comfort over her.
"We're all professionals here. It's nothing we haven't seen before."
"Don't worry, it'll look good."
"It'll be over in a few minutes. Just like waxing your legs."
Mikan gradually gave in to the idea, a bit curious but also not wanting to make a big fuss. "Okay… Could you please warn me, though? Before you rip it off?"
"Sure."
For a split second, Mikan wished Natsume was there so she could hold his hand, but then she remembered he probably specifically requested the wax.
"One, two," counted down the attendant, "three!"
Mikan bit back a shriek.
"Did you have fun?" asked Natsume, already relaxing on a massage table, his back oiled up and being kneaded. "You were pretty loud in there."
"You should get a wax, too," she growled, resisting the urge to cradle her vagina in comfort. After each strip, the attendant had pressed something cold to soothe Mikan's raw flesh, then finished with some type of serum. "It's only fair."
"Who said I didn't?" he taunted.
Mikan looked down and saw a fine layer of hair still coating his legs. "Where did you - " Then she remembered all the places she had been waxed. "Never mind."
"Go have a snack." Natsume jerked his chin in the direction of a few trays laden with fruits, nuts, and even the little crackers with different slices of cheese. They offered fruit-infused water, though Mikan couldn't really detect a difference in taste besides a faint citrus.
As they prepared the second massage table, Mikan helped herself, and Natsume watched her. When she started on the grapes, he opened his mouth in a clear expectation. She tried her best to aim, but it ended up bouncing off his cheek and rolling underneath a table, earning a dirty look from the attendants.
Feeling guilty, she fed Natsume and quietly took her place on the other table.
Under the hands of the talented masseuse, Mikan nearly fell asleep and continued to snooze when they sat her down in a large chair, applied some kind of clay mask with the infamous cucumber slices over her eyelids, and started a warm soak for her feet.
To her right, she heard a faint crunch.
"I think those are for your eyes," she joked, lips unable to move much due to the rapidly hardening mask.
Something thin and wet rested on her lips. "You want one?"
Well, it was already on her mouth. She took the cucumber slice between her teeth and nibbled. The cucumber was fresh, crunching nicely in her mouth.
It reminded her how late it was getting. "Are we having dinner after this?"
"Yeah, I've already made a reservation. You hungry?" Another cucumber slice prodded at her lips, which she obediently took. Mikan heard Natsume chewing on a couple more, occasionally feeding her another.
"Excuse me, sir, those are for the facials. I'm going to have to ask for the bowl back."
"What do you think, Natsume?" asked Mikan, holding out her selection of a babydoll pink or a red so dark it was almost purple. As she noted earlier, and especially since she had been holding his hand during the day, his fingernails were getting buffed and polished.
Natsume glanced at both of her options. "White."
"White?" Almost immediately, the manicurist retrieved a selection of different shades of white for Mikan to peruse. "Is that what you want?"
Mikan couldn't tell the difference between the bottles, but picked out one that looked creamy. She offered it out for Natsume's approval, and he nodded.
"Okay, we'll go with white."
After her pedicure and manicure, Mikan thought they'd finished the beauty treatment, but instead they laid her back down for another round of facial cleansing and smoothing, microblading her face and threading her eyebrows (which hurt a lot more than waxing in her opinion), lathering her skin with watery serums and silky creams, rolling and massaging the product.
And Mikan could not stop staring at her glowing complexion (albeit with a few spots where her acne was rapidly vanishing) in the mirror while she waited, already clad in the black haircutting cape.
As usual, Natsume took the chair next to her.
Mikan wrinkled her nose at his reflection. "I'm never getting rid of you, am I?"
Natsume's reply was interrupted by the hair stylist, who immediately set about arranging her hair. "What are we thinking today, darling?"
"Oh - Uh, I usually get a trim to about my shoulders so - "
Even as his own hairdresser began preparing him, Natsume paid full attention to Mikan. "Give her a full blow-out. Highlights and lowlights. Whatever you think looks best, but keep the length."
Of course, Natsume's trim finished first since he just needed the ends lined up (Mikan wondered what was even the purpose of spending so much money on a barely visible result), and though she thought he might have something better to do, there apparently was nothing more he wanted than to hover over her (literally as she laid her head back in the sink) as the hairdresser shampooed and conditioned her hair.
She peeked open an eye. "You just gonna stand there and watch?"
"Yeah." His hand snaked down to find hers. "You know, we've barely even kissed today."
"I thought you only wanted a kiss 'every once in a while.'"
"Yeah… and it's been a while."
"Later," she promised, not wanting to make the hairdresser feel uncomfortable.
Per Natsume's instructions, she sat in the chair for hours as they dyed strips of her hair, trimmed just the edges so it still flowed over her shoulders and down her back, and finally set about a dozen different products in it.
The end product was worth it.
"Wow," Mikan exclaimed, admiring the sleek shine of her straight hair. The sunlight caught on the red and blonde highlights, making the dark color even richer. With each turn of her head, it swished softly back and forth. Naturally, both her hands reached up to see how it'd look pulled into pigtails.
Natsume's hand was there in an instant, knocking away her hands and stroking the length of her hair. "Let it down. You look better that way."
"We'll start packing everything we used today as well as some of the skincare you requested, Mr. Hyuuga." The stylist turned to Mikan. "You should let your skin clear up first before putting heavy make-up on. I'll provide details on how to maintain your hair, and I'll see you in a couple of months for another trim."
The sun was almost setting as they paid, Shiki waiting outside for them. Mikan watched as Natsume easily handed over a platinum credit card, and with just one swipe, everything was paid for.
Hours of work done and over with, compensated by one tiny rectangle.
A brand new Mikan, cleaned and polished and shined.
They sent her home with bags full of creams and lotions and serums, and when she'd returned home after dinner with Natsume, all the younger children marveled over her new, gorgeous hair as well as the luxury products. Mikan promised they all could try a little bit.
SUNDAY
"Good morning," she yawned, clambering through the open car door and greeting Natsume with a kiss. Her hair still retained the shine and volume from the day before. "I don't care where we go for breakfast."
Natsume's fingers interlocked with hers. "We're just eating something light so we can get your proper measurements. Don't want you getting too bloated."
Natsume bought them all biscuits and coffee at a bakery close to their destination before telling Shiki they'd walk the rest of the way.
Mikan smiled when she saw the store front, the window filled with mannequins dressed in blazers and uniforms. She was thrilled it was so practical. "I was worried you were going to bring me to some designer boutique and dress me up in gowns and diamonds."
"Oh, we're going there next," he said casually. "This is just for your uniform. Gotta have you looking proper at school."
Before she could protest more (about the diamonds?!), he dragged her by the wrist through the door, setting off a little bell. It was a small shop; or at least it seemed that way because all the walls were covered by rolls of fabric, and half the space was partitioned for a small dressing area.
A gray-haired lady looked up from her examination of a silky fabric on the counter. "Ah, yes, Master Hyuuga, we've been expecting you. This is the girl who will be measured?"
Both Natsume and the seamstress ushered Mikan into the back and onto a small platform. Natsume settled into a cushy armchair, watching as the lady whipped out a tape measure and began sizing Mikan up.
"You must be excited to start your first year in high school soon," the seamstress said, almost maternally, filling the silence.
"Ah, no - I'm actually in my last year." Mikan tried her best to hold still, feeling much like a doll. "I graduate in a few months."
"Your last year? And you're just getting fitted now?" The seamstress clucked in disappointment. "I'll need you to take off your shirt so we can get the correct measurements for your bust and waist."
Mikan was about to lift up her shirt before she remembered Natsume in the room. "Can you turn around?"
"Why?" There was the faintest hint of a pout on his face, but Mikan could have been imagining it.
"Your girlfriend asked you to turn around, mister." The seamstress thwacked the top of his head solidly. "So turn around."
Natsume did.
"No, no, he's not my boyfriend," Mikan hastily explained, but the seamstress ignored her, rapidly finishing up her measurements.
"You'll fit into a small with a few adjustments," she declared.
Within minutes, the seamstress had pulled on the appropriate uniform, tucking in some places with pins to better fit Mikan's figure. She mumbled something about finding the right color thread and disappeared into some other section of the shop.
Mikan caught Natsume's eye in the mirror. "What are you staring at?"
"You."
"What about me? You don't think it fits?" Mikan smoothed down the blouse and twisted around to see her uniform from all angles; it was tight in the right places, and everything was the correct length. Already, she felt much more confident wearing it to school than the ill-fitting uniform that had been handed down to her.
"We could make the skirt a little shorter." Natsume reached out and lifted the hem about an inch, showing a scandalous amount of thigh and nearly her ass. "Right there would be nice."
She halfheartedly kicked him. "Don't be such a pervert."
In such a distinguished school with such wealthy classmates, of course, Mikan had heard of Central Town, one of the premiere shopping locations, filled with luxury brand names and the latest fashions worn by celebrities and influencers.
She'd just never been invited to go there.
"Take your pick." Natsume gestured at the street lined by storefronts. Only a few other shoppers were present, but Mikan felt a bit self-conscious that despite her makeover yesterday, she didn't look as glamorous as they did.
"I can choose? I thought you were going to dress me up in diamonds or something like that."
"Of course, you can choose. You can choose to get whatever you want as long as I get to pick out some stuff for you, too."
They held hands as they walked up and down the boulevard. Most of the boutiques had… mature clothing, fit more for working women than a high schooler. She recognized a lot of popular names, but their clothing wasn't her style.
True to his word, Natsume didn't demand to enter any store; he simply held her hand and let her lead. Sometimes, Mikan stopped in front of a window, heavily debating whether it was her style, and he would offer some advice on what the brand was typically known for.
Finally, Mikan spotted a smaller boutique named HAR*ADA. She had never heard of the designer before, but the mannequins were dressed in cutesy skirts and simple patterns; perfect for a girl her age.
"This one," she said, pushing open the door, Natsume following obediently.
"Welcome to Harada - awww, aren't you two just so adorable?" A pink-haired shop assistant bounced to the front with a smile that looked more like a smirk. "My name is Misaki, and I'll be your personal helper today."
Were all shop assistants that nice? "Oh, I'm Mikan."
Soon, the two of them were gabbing like they were old friends, complimenting each other's hair and outfits and nails. Before Mikan knew it, Misaki had talked her into grabbing several dresses, a variety of skirts (Natsume especially delighted in the minis), a few sporty-looking jackets, and whatever else Misaki decided would look good on the brunette until the pile of clothes grew too heavy for Mikan.
She had never been inside such a high-end store before; she supposed they didn't use baskets to hold their items, did they?
"Here, give them to your boyfriend. That's why he's here, isn't it?" Misaki winked at Mikan, who couldn't help but giggle and dump all of her items on Natsume.
When Mikan's choices were folded neatly over his arm, Natsume hummed quietly as he picked out a few more pieces for her. His selection alone was probably already triple the size of her current wardrobe.
"Okay, okay, enough," insisted Mikan once the pile had grown too heavy for even Natsume. "I'll go try them on now."
"Good idea," said Natsume, following her to the dressing rooms.
Both Misaki and Mikan turned to look at him strangely. Misaki smacked a hanging sign that read, "No Boys Allowed."
"Sorry, buddy, but that's the rules." She smirked at his barely concealed glare. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."
With each outfit, Misaki excessively complimented Mikan, finding merit in every single thread and button and design. Mikan didn't know if it was a sales tactic to make her buy more, but it certainly worked, as she flushed with Misaki's praise.
At least, until she tried on a little tank top that felt more like a corset. Examining her reflection, she bit her lip, twisting and turning every which way. Maybe they had gotten the wrong size…?
There was a knock on the door. "Is everything okay in there?"
Mikan opened the door and stood in front of the trifold mirror, seeing duplicates of herself in the skinny top and matching skirt. "Yeah, I just… I didn't think this shirt would be so short." She tried to tug the material down, but it just wouldn't.
"It's supposed to be like that. It's a crop top. Very punk of you," said Misaki appreciatively.
"People can see my belly button." Mikan's hands folded over the exposed strip of skin.
"So what? It's a cute belly button, and why should we care what others think? Don't you think you look cool?"
Slowly, her hands dropped and her shoulders untensed. "Yeah, I guess… Not as cool as you do."
Misaki grinned widely. "Confidence, Mikan. You'll grow into it."
"Oi, can I get some service around here?" called someone from outside the dressing rooms.
"Ugh, rude customers." She rolled her eyes playfully before leaving Mikan with one last remark, "But it does look good on you."
Mikan scanned her reflection from head to toe, repeating softly, "Confidence."
Mikan was officially on her first shopping spree, laden with several paper bags from HAR*ADA. After everything had been rung up, Mikan waved goodbye to Misaki, promising to come back and shop again.
"Anywhere else?" Natsume asked.
They went to a cosmetics store where Mikan spritzed on a few perfumes and got the one they both liked best. Not used to a full face of make-up and still letting her few pimples go away, she only got a couple pots of foundation and concealer and the basic mascara and eyeliner. She tried on various shades of lipstick, and when they left the store, there might or might not have been faint remnants of her favorite color on Natsume's face and neck.
Next, she tried on shoes and wound up with more pairs than she had ever owned in her lifetime: heels and flats and sneakers. To her surprise, Natsume also bought himself a pair of street shoes.
Without meaning to, she stopped by a formalwear shop and bought more dresses than she had anticipated, buoyed by Natsume's compliments when she had modeled them for him.
Mikan was determined not to make spending money a habit, but there was something satisfying about the crinkle of sleek bags, the glide of the credit card, the scent of opulence in each shop.
At last, they sat down to have lunch, and Mikan took full inventory of all her purchases, surrounded by all their bags. Thank goodness Natsume asked for a private booth; or else, she'd be outed as the huge glutton she felt she was.
"My God," she whispered, feeling overindulgent. Her entire life, she had always been frugal, had never asked for more than what was allotted to her, but suddenly, it was like she had forgotten what money even was. All that existed was her desire and a plastic card.
In an attempt to distract her from whatever moral dilemma she was having, Natsume reminded her, "Drink up, you need to stay hydrated."
Absentmindedly, she accepted the bubbly water he handed her. "I can't believe we bought so much - I bought so much." Hadn't she thought she could make Natsume restrain himself? Hadn't she thought she'd be the voice of reason?
"We bought just enough. Chin up, I still have two stores in mind."
"We're doing more shopping?" Her lips pressed together as though the thought of indulging even more made her nauseous. "I don't think we should keep spending. We've already spent so much."
"Hey. I want to spend my money on you," he reminded her. "You're worth it."
"Worth this much? Natsume, I - "
He snapped his head towards her, eyes intense, and said sharply, "You are worth it. Don't you think otherwise. Your value isn't determined by how much you save or spend. Your value doesn't change. But looking good and feeling good, knowing you don't have to worry about not having enough, do you feel happy?"
"Are you happy?" she blurted, not wanting to delve too deep into his question.
Natsume fiddled with the cutlery, arranging and rearranging the angle of the fork next to the spoon. Finally, he said, "I'm happy you're here with me."
"Oh, okay." For a moment, Mikan almost wished she had made Natsume draw up a formal contract; at least then, she'd know what exactly was expected of her and if she was performing up to his standards because, in the end, it was just a performance...
Natsume placed a hand on her knee and looked at her again with those intense eyes. "You make me happy."
… Right?
They placed all their previous purchases in the car, Shiki promising to look after them, before Natsume led her to Anju's, a jewelry shop.
"No, Natsume," she protested, already evaluating the cost of the twinkling diamonds and thick gold bands. "I - It's just too much. You can't - "
"My, my," cut in a suave-looking salesman with long blond hair and a charming smile. "Aren't you cute as a button? Is this your first time shopping for jewelry?"
"Yeah…" Momentarily, Mikan was dazzled. There was just something about that man's aura that made her relax, almost as though he could emit pheromones.
"A pretty girl like you deserves to be showered in jewels. I know you might be scared off by the price tags, but we also have the cutest charms," he withdrew a tiny, bejeweled rabbit pendant for her to take, "for a cute little bunny like you."
The salesman's fingers lingered a bit too long for Natsume's liking as he helped Mikan put it on, lavishing compliment after compliment.
"Hands off," Natsume barked.
"Ah, a bit jealous, are we?" The blond man's eyes twinkled. "I'm only trying to help your pretty girlfriend feel her best. You want her feeling her best, don't you? She only deserves the very best."
Mikan chastised, "Let the nice man do his job."
"He can do his job without touching you."
Already Mikan had fallen into the man's trap, too entranced with his soft words of praise, and with a wave of her hand, she dismissed Natsume, "Go pick out some rings for me or something."
Natsume loathed to leave her in the presence of such a lecherous deviant, but that was the first time she seemed really willing to let Natsume spoil her, especially given her resistance at lunch. Maybe she was secretly fond of jewels.
"Hn."
Another store attendant, a serious man with brown hair and glasses, stepped forward. "Can I help you find something, sir?"
"Just looking at rings."
"Gold or silver?"
"Silver," he said decisively.
The man, whose name tag read Jinno, pulled out a velvet square where silver rings lay embedded in the plush material.
"Mikan, give me your hand."
Still engrossed in whatever charming and delighting conversation, she extended her head for Natsume to try on various rings. Although they were all in her size, they didn't quite fit.
"Hn."
"Not satisfied with these?" Jinno reached under the glass counter to pull out other silver rings, more laden with diamonds, but Natsume pointed further down.
"What about those rings over there?"
"Over here we have our most popular engagement rings." He gave Natsume a knowing look over the tops of his glasses. "If you are interested, we'll package it with the utmost discretion without the missus knowing."
Natsume stared for a long time at the display.
"We should get your ears pierced," he murmured thoughtfully, gently rubbing his thumb on her earlobe. Mikan waited for Narumi to finish wrapping up the silver charms that secretly were for a few of the older girls at the orphanage (but Natsume didn't care, right? He said she could get whatever she wanted, and he never said it had to be for her. Also, he had chosen his own pieces for her.).
In the end, Natsume had argued his way into buying her two bracelets and three rings, which Mikan accepted as a nice compromise between not buying anything and buying out the entire store. She had made one last-ditch attempt at refusing a diamond-studded slinky bracelet, but Natsume could be a stone wall sometimes.
"I'll pierce mine if you pierce yours," she offered.
"I already have one piercing."
"What?" Incredulously, she swept back his hair to reveal a gold plate along the shell of his ear. "That wasn't there yesterday."
"I only wear it on casual days, and I didn't want it to get in the way of my haircut." Without thinking, she continued to stroke his hair absentmindedly, her eye caught on something.
"I don't…" There was a long pause.
"You don't what?" Natsume followed her gaze to see what had made Mikan trail off. "You like that necklace?"
"Ah, no, no, I don't. It… It just reminds me of something…." Mikan hesitated, not wanting to lay out all her wounds for Natsume to see. But she didn't want to lie to him. "My grandpa used to wear something like that. Before he passed away, he said it used to be my grandma's, but I only remember him wearing it. It wasn't as fancy, but it had stones that were the exact same color."
Natsume didn't hesitate. He caught Jinno's attention and waved at the necklace. "We'll get that one, too."
"Natsume…"
"I haven't gotten you a necklace yet so it'll just complete the set. It'll clash with all the silver, though." After handing over his credit card again, he picked it up. "Let's see it on you."
Mikan thought it must be some scene out of a romantic drama or something as she turned around and swept her hair to one side, allowing Natsume to clasp it on.
She craned her neck to look at it properly in the mirror on the counter. She loved it already, and she already knew she'd never take it off for the rest of her life. Even if she and Natsume became strangers or if he'd suddenly demanded back all of the things he'd bought her, she'd fight to keep this one momento.
If she didn't have anything left of her family, she could certainly pretend to have a little piece.
Natsume didn't say anything, but his eyes provided her all the compliments she needed. Accepting their bag of jewelry, he thanked the store attendants and opened the door for Mikan.
"Thank you, Natsume," she said, already playing with it. "I… I really like this necklace."
"Then wear it often."
Pleased with their latest purchase, Mikan didn't notice where he was directing them next until they were already stepping through the doors.
"Eh? Is this a…"
Mikan's eyes whipped around the store, landing on the mannequins wearing silky camisoles, lacy bras, and see-through thongs.
A lingerie store.
"Natsume, what are we getting here?" There was nothing for her there! How could she possibly wear such… such…
"We can't have you walking around with nice clothes but the most atrocious underwear underneath, can we?" he said simply. As though it were any other store, Natsume went to the display shelves and started pulling out bras and panties galore.
"My underwear isn't atrocious. It's cute!"
He scoffed, continuing on his panty hunt. "Right, ratty old polka dotted bras are so in season."
"You peeked!"
"You showed me."
"No, I didn't." Mikan's hand shot out to grab his wrist, preventing him from grabbing a full black lacy garter belt set. "I can't wear that!"
"Fine, if you don't want to wear it, you don't have to. But let me buy them for you in case you ever do."
"In case I ever do? I - " Suddenly, an image flashed in her head of herself, holding onto Natsume's arm, dressed to the nines in a stunning floor-length gown and black tuxedo… with her fraying printed panties underneath. If she wanted to insert herself into Natsume's lavish lifestyle, she'd have to act the part; she'd have to feel the part.
Just as Misaki and the jewelry salesman said, Mikan was cute, pretty even in the right lighting. But she'd never tried to be sexy.
And in that moment, Mikan Sakura realized she wanted to be sexy.
There was power in feeling sexy, power in regaining control of her body, power in knowing she deserved to feel as good as she looked.
Confidence.
Mikan tried to believe she didn't want such expensive comforts, that she was above such superficiality, but it was clear she had never allowed herself to yearn for such things because they were always out of her reach, like she didn't deserve good things. She had settled for the shit life had dumped on her, a trickle of lemonade out of life's unripe lemons.
Everyone wanted to feel worthy sometimes.
"Well, I mean, this is pretty cute," she admitted coolly, holding up a floral push-up bra that looked sensible enough for everyday wear.
The corners of Natsume's lips rose, and Mikan couldn't tell if it was a smile or a smirk. "That one looks just like the one you had on yesterday."
"You peeked yesterday, too?!"
To Natsume's pleasure, there was no such "No Boys Allowed" rule in the dressing room and no nosy shop attendant to dissuade him otherwise. Besides, he argued, why would there be a sofa in the wide dressing room space if boyfriends weren't supposed to be modeled for?
"Come on, show me," he goaded from his lounge on the couch. It had been more than five minutes, and he knew it didn't take her that long to change.
"Ugh, no. I'm all bloated from lunch," she complained, but he could hear the nervousness in her voice.
"Good, then we can see how it'll look when you put a little weight on you.
"Natsume!" After a few more seconds, her head peeked out from behind the curtain. "I don't really think I should be wearing something so sexy like this."
"Why? You are sexy, and what you wear should reflect that." Her cheeks heated up at his bold statement, which was only made worse by his blunt delivery and straight face, like he was actually serious about her being sexy.
Unable to look him in the eyes, Mikan mumbled something under her breath, but slowly dropped the curtain and stepped out.
Natsume leaned forward eagerly. She hadn't taken off the necklace, and Natsume couldn't help but feel vaguely aroused by the image of Mikan wearing a sheer white babydoll nightie, like she'd been waiting for him to get home, sitting patiently on their bed, wearing only things he bought her.
He loved her in white.
Keeping her eyes on Natsume's expression, Mikan slowly spun in a circle, the sheer fabric floating, revealing more of the lace panties underneath.
"Perfect," he whispered, eyes never leaving her figure.
On Friday, Mikan Sakura left school an outcast, shunned by her elite classmates, a pitiful object of torment, unworthy of much attention unless it was to get bullied.
On Monday morning, she arrived looking like a goddess; her long brown hair styled properly, her uniform fitting in all the right areas, a golden necklace adorning her neck, a glittery bracelet on her wrist, and her skin looking dewy and luminescent.
And everyone knew who caused it when she greeted Natsume Hyuuga with a smile, placed both hands on his shoulder, and leaned up on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the lips.
"Eh, is that Sakura?"
"What is she doing with Hyuuga?"
"Are they dating?"
"No way! Why would Hyuuga go out with someone like her?"
"Well, look at her now!"
"Is she wearing a diamond bracelet? That looks just like yours, Luna!"
"Do you think - No… Do you think she's his sugar baby?"
Smirking in triumph, Natsume wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand somewhere only significant others were allowed to touch.
Mikan Sakura was officially his.
Author's Note
The writing process went a little like this:
Me: Hey Brain, it's time to finish writing the second chapter of that light-hearted sugar daddy fic.
Brain: Oh? Did you say, you want to analyze gender norms in regards to wealth and delve into Mikan's psychology as she fights her internalized misogyny that dictates that females shouldn't be greedy and any woman found wanting expensive things is an airhead bimbo? Plus her family trauma, can we do that? Like, we made her an orphan sooooooooo
Me: No, what the fuck, don't do that
Brain: well then FUCK U
Me: FUCK U