One word: Enjoy!

EDITTED: 7/6/2008 - just some minor changes to sentence structures.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice.

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Chapter 10

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"Good morning, children," Mr. Imai greeted amicably over the morning paper. Hotaru, Natsume and Ruka muttered tired 'good morning's in response. Pushing his reading glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, the Imai patriarch nodded at the teenagers before returning to the paper.

Mrs. Imai greeted them more warmly than her husband did, even embracing each of them lightly. If she noticed the way Natsume tensed under her touch, she said nothing and flashed him a bright smile.

Silently, the trio spread butter and jam on pieces of toast and munched on them, their eyes unfocussed and distant. Mrs. Imai's lively chatter was lost on all on them, even Ruka. They had stayed up the night before to discuss about their next move and had finally come up with a plan. They had to leave the house, pronto. It would jeopardize Mr. and Mrs. Imai's lives sooner or later, and none of them wanted that.

Now the only problem that remained was breaking the news to Hotaru's parents. They weren't sure if the adults would stomach that easily after sheltering them and treating them like their own children, especially since one of them really was their only daughter. Hotaru had enjoyed every moment they spent together as a family even though she did not show it much. It was like being young again, when she and Mikan still roamed the hills after school without a care in the world.

They kept exchanging glances throughout the day whenever they thought Mr. and Mrs. Imai had looked away. None of them wanted to tell the adults, yet it had to be done somehow. They could not put the lives of normal civilians in danger just because they needed a reliable base to work in.

The three teenagers sat together that evening to watch television, routinely done since day one of their stay. Natsume cringed inwardly with distaste. Soapy operas were not his thing. As the voice of the main actress caterwauled through the television, him, Ruka and Hotaru mumbled in low voices, debating and arguing with each other.

"You do it, you're their daughter after all…."

"Ruka, you try if you don't want to be blackmailed."

"I dunno, they might need more persuasion than just me…and hey, that's cheating!"

There was a small popping sound as the television died. All three teenagers turned their heads to look at Mr. Imai, who had one eyebrow raised in their direction. He was no longer smiling, but he wasn't openly displeased either. Just curious.

They looked at each other for a while, an adult against three young ones, silently scrutinising each other, trying to read each other's expression. Mrs. Imai just looked on serenely without taking sides. Natsume realised too late that their unusual silence had not gone unnoticed.

Mr. Imai sighed and positioned himself more comfortably on the worn sofa. "Well, kids, care to tell us what's up?"

At his light tone, the three teenagers looked down. This was it; they had to tell the adults now. It could not wait any longer.

"We must leave." Hotaru went straight to the point as usual, looking at each of her parents in turn with a calm gaze. Beside her, Ruka and Natsume lent her their silent support, their backs straight and their faces solemn. All three feared the reaction of her parents. Would Mrs. Imai cry? Natsume was sure Hotaru disliked seeing her mother sad, much like any other child.

What they failed to speculate, however, was her parents' immediate acceptance. The resigned looks on their faces was almost as painful as seeing either cry. Natsume could sense a slight hesitation coming from Hotaru.

"When?" Mrs. Imai said morosely. She reached out for her daughter then pulled back upon having second thoughts. Hotaru closed her eyes.

"This evening, if possible."

"But..." Mrs. Imai's voice cracked under the strain of barely suppressed emotion. "Can't you stay a little longer? I'm sure it's safe. Just a few more days, or at least until tomorrow--"

"No, mother," Hotaru said heavily. Her parents' shoulders sagged. Exhaling, Hotaru strengthened her resolve. Revelation of her own sorrow would only fuel her parents' efforts to dissuade her from leaving. "We need to leave as soon as possible," she insisted.

"Hotaru," her father said. Listening to the family of three argue, Natsume could not help but feel a bit annoyed. Her parents were putting up a fight, as expected of them. They had finally been reunited with one of their children after five years, after all. If the pain they felt was the same as the one he felt when he lost his sister, well, he could pretty much sympathise with them.

But still, could they not understand his urgency to leave this warm, sheltered place Hotaru called home? He - and Ruka and Hotaru, too - didn't want anyone to be hurt because of their selfish desire to find Mikan. Smothering a groan, Natsume's temper flared a little.

It was just a brief flash of irritation, a sharp, searing anger that dissipated as soon as it appeared, but everyone noticed it. Mostly because it manifested in the form of a burning coffee table and a shower of broken glass.

Eyes wide, Hotaru's parents scrambled away from the fire-licked table. Ruka and Hotaru inched away, too, but less hastily since they were used to the spurts of flame that was Natsume's alice.

Natsume, however, stared at the crackling fire with something akin to morbid fascination. He watched, transfixed, as it consumed the tough wood along with the cups and the cookie jar. The slow, seemingly deliberate, taunting movements of the flames was a horrible mockery of one other instance when the flames played like they were doing now.

That time, the immense power behind the fire ravaged his entire hometown. That time, he lost his father, his mother, and pretty much everyone he knew during his childhood. A cold finger ran down his spine.

Feeling sick in the pit of his stomach, Natsume spared the burning table one last glance before bolting out via a window, leaving a puzzled audience behind.

His shoes rang shrilly on the stone pavements. Pebbles, dislodged from the thick slabs of concrete, skittered down the paths. Natsume paid heed to neither. The wind roared in his ears and his heart palpitated wildly as he ran and ran, letting his feet carry him.

He could not understand why it happened. His control over his fire was almost perfect; he was able to conjure it in short, sharp bursts or in huge fireballs without breaking a sweat – at least, when it didn't mean over-exertion. So why had the fire broken out in the Imai's living room?

Natsume was scared. Yes, scared. Who would not? His fire had the ability to raze the entire house if given a chance. And god, he hadn't wanted it to happen. It was an accident!

But that was precisely why he was afraid: it was an accident. It wasn't meant to happen.

His breaths came in harsh gasps now, heavy and laboured with his sudden exertion. Tired, he slowed to a stop under a tree, unable to shake off his shock. The cold night air pricked his sweat-drenched skin and froze his lungs when he inhaled.

Calm down, Natsume, he thought. Panicking won't help you.

Taking deep breaths, he leaned deeper into the tree trunk and looked up. The moon grinned back at him, a thin crescent sliver in the night sky; a young moon tonight. Natsume wiped the sweat off his brow.

The neighbourhood was silent past nightfall as opposed to the hustle and bustle during the day. Unlike the city though, and even the Academy which had its own forests, there were more nocturnal sounds permeating the air. Natsume could hear the call of owls and some crickets, and the barks and growls of stray dogs in the distance. If he strained his ears a little, he could even hear a howler monkey screeching from high up in the mountains to the west of the village.

He closed his eyes and let his senses wander. Already he felt much calmer, his frazzled nerves soothed by his long run and the ambience of the night. He could feel his limbs trembling with exhaustion.

Heaving a weary groan, Natsume fell into a fitful sleep.

"Wake up."

Natsume didn't hear the person clearly. Sleep still beckoned to him, having claimed him as its own only after sunrise. Someone took his shoulders and gave him a gentle shake.

"Wake up," the woman coaxed again. He knew it was a woman – her soft, gentle voice told him so. She shook him again. The warmth of her hands reached through his shirt and spread down his arms. It felt nice.

His eyes snapped open. In a reflexive movement, he slapped her hands away and tried to distance himself from her, regarding her warily. She was, as he deduced, a woman. Rich brown curls rested on her shoulders and cascaded halfway down her back, held away from her eyes with a hairband. The slight wrinkles on her forehead and her plain, worn clothes told of a hard life.

She was looking at him now, not with anger, but merely out of concern. She leaned forward a little to get a better look at him.

"Are you all right, young man?" she said.

Natsume turned away, unable to look into her eyes. "Yes, thank you," he replied brusquely. She smiled at his answer.

Her smile. It sparkled in her eyes and chased away the wrinkles from her face. Natsume found himself seeing a shadow of Mikan in that.

"Well, that's good," the woman said, satisfied. "I was worried for a moment there."

Natsume got up to leave. Unfortunately, his limbs protested, pricking his nervous system to remind him of his lousy choice of a resting spot the night before. He winced and tuned the pain out of his mind.

"Sorry," he said to the woman. It was all he could offer her for her unfounded concern.

She smiled again. "No problem. Well, I'll be going now." With a cheery wave, she turned on her heel and walked down the pavement.

He watched her go for a while, his mind still somewhat hazy with sleep. Taking a few steps forward, he breathed in the cool air of the morning and looked around.

The villagers were already up and about despite the youngness of the morn; not much later than eight o'clock judging by the position of the sun. Natsume could smell fresh vegetables and fruits from where he stood. In the distance, fishmongers yelled at the top of their voices and bartered with their customers.

Children walked alongside their mothers, laughing and grinning as they clung to their mother's skirts. Natsume stared after them almost wistfully. How long had it been since he had done that? He could scarcely remember the details anymore.

Seeing as he had nothing else to do, he stepped forward and melted into the crowd, exploring the market and familiarising himself with civilisation once more for the first time in years.

He found the village market to be fairly huge, spanning along two streets and into the town square. It was speckled with colour, too – many, many colours that clashed and blended and fit together in that spot but somehow never seemed out of place. Voices could be heard everywhere, noisy yet not overly disruptive.

Natsume almost smiled, content with just watching the villagers go about their daily lives. He found it oddly amusing, how they interacted and bickered as though without a care in the world. Indeed, he felt calm, letting himself drift with the crowd.

"You there, wanna buy some fruits? Fresh from the orchard!" a fruit seller yelled at him. Natsume stopped and looked at the fruit stall. Watermelons and apples and pears gleamed in the sunlight, looking as fresh as the fruit seller claimed them to be. Natsume went over to the stall and picked up an apple. It sat in his hand, its red coat shiny and inviting.

"I'll take one," he said.

The fruit seller grinned. "You've made a good choice, young man."

"Hn." Natsume walked away to explore more of the market. He sank his teeth into the firm flesh of the apple, crunching juicy mouthfuls of it with relish. It relieved his parched throat and quelled his hunger for a while.

It was then that Natsume regretfully remembered that his friends were probably waiting for him at the Imais' house. They would be worried for him.

At least, he knew Ruka would, and perhaps Hotaru as well. He wasn't too sure about her parents, though. What with the fiery display topped with his abrupt disappearance last night, he would not be surprised if they treated him like a ticking time bomb. He knew he deserved it.

But that didn't mean he was ready for it.

It was almost noon before Natsume dared to think about returning to the Imai residence. The sun had almost reach its zenith and so it was considerably warmer than it had been in the morning. He trudged up the now-familiar village streets with a heavy heart, dragging his feet in his hesitance.

It wasn't long before he spied the reddish brown rooftop of the house and the old tree growing beside it. Every step he took was mental torture, hacking away at his strength. Only his hardened resolve to end his friends' worry kept him from turning tail and avoid the inevitable confrontation like a coward.

He stopped in front of the gate, a finger poised to ring the doorbell. But he didn't press the button. Instead he stared at the house beyond the rusty metal bars, marvelling at how imposing it suddenly seemed. He remembered the drab walls, the dreary feel of the house; the cobwebs hanging from corners in the ceiling and the almost empty hall. The Imai residence never sounded more uninviting.

But then again, the Imais took them in and sheltered them, did they not? They were happy despite the simplicity of their home and their lives, satisfied with what little the village could offer. Mrs. Imai always smiled, always kind and gentle. And then there was Ruka and Hotaru too.

He would be endangering them all if he stayed. Not only was there the threat of the Academy and the Anti-Alice Organisation's people – Natsume was not so foolish as to delude himself that the AAO would not love an opportunity to hunt him down now that he was no longer under the Academy's wing – hounding them, but now his alice was unstable too.

His hand dropped to his side. Should he leave them all and work alone to find Mikan? It certainly sounded safer for them….

"Oi, Natsume!"

Natsume's head snapped to the left upon recognising his name – and the voice. He took an involuntary step backwards as though to run away. "Ruka," he said evasively. The blonde boy marched up to him and frowned.

"Do you know how worried you made me and Hotaru?" Ruka said, exasperated. "You ran off just like that. Gave Mrs. Imai a scare when you jumped out of the window, mind."

"I'm sorry. You won't understand--"

"Understand what?" Ruka demanded. Natsume halted and looked at his friend, his eyes showing his fear.

"So you started a fire and burned a table. Big deal," Ruka continued. "What's there to get spooked about?"

"My alice," Natsume snapped, breaking under the increasing tension Ruka was placing on him. "I can't control it anymore."

There. He said it. Natsume took a deep breath and looked away, not daring to face Ruka. Would he hate him now? Or would be back away in fear like the others when they learned of the tragedy he supposedly brought upon his hometown?

Ruka did not speak for a long time. Passers-by walked to and fro, oblivious to the grimness felt by the two boys. Time seemed to stretch forever, moving slower than a sloth, each second ticking ominously like the tolling of a death bell.

Natsume's crimson eyes darkened with resolve. He would leave Hotaru and Ruka and travel alone. It was too dangerous to travel with an unstable alice. Everyone knew that. Now all he needed to do was to wait for Ruka's fear to overpower his common sense. Natsume took a deep breath. It stabbed his lungs like a chunk of ice.

SMACK.

Natsume's neck cracked as his entire head was forcefully slapped to the left. Shocked but resigned, he idly noted how hard Ruka could hit when he wanted to. His cheek stung and throbbed with pain. He could even taste the coppery tang of blood where his teeth had cut into the inside of his cheek.

Slowly, he turned to face Ruka again, lifting his head to look at him in the eye, half-fearing what he would see. Even without looking he knew Ruka was angry. It practically radiated from him like a heat wave.

"You're thinking of leaving us behind, aren't you?" Ruka said bitterly. It was not really a question; it was a statement, because Ruka knew it was so. Natsume's mind always worked like that.

Natsume didn't utter a word.

"You think that you're a ticking time bomb now that your alice is unstable," Ruka continued, using Natsume's own words as his own. "But you know what? I'm tired of you being so angsty and pessimistic."

He punched the fence near Natsume, making the wire netting rattle and shriek in protest. His eyes blazed with anger.

"You are coming with us, and that's it. We'll risk your alice exploding." Ruka pronounced each word clearly with emphasis to get his point across.

When Natsume did not answer, Ruka grabbed his shoulders and shook him once. Natsume could feel Ruka's hands trembling from the boy's vice-like grip on his shoulders.

He's feeling guilty too, Natsume realised, ashamed. Ruka probably didn't like yelling at him like that, any more than he would enjoy hurting an animal. And he knew of Natsume's fear of his alice exploding like his sister's did. But he yelled at him anyway.

Unable to come up with a satisfactory answer, Natsume shrugged off Ruka's hands and walked across the street, eyes shielded by his fringe.

"Hn," was all he said. But that one syllable brought a smile to Ruka's face; there was no worry of Natsume deserting them now, that much he knew.

When Natsume finally returned to the Imai residence after dusk, the three teenagers packed up and got ready to leave.

Seems that there Document Manager didn't screw up the document after all. Hmm. Thank goodness I didn't get a repeat of what happened with the precious chapter. Haha.

Reviews of all kinds are accepted and appreciated.

Until next time, then!