EXODUS

Chapter Two: Questions and Answers

Ruka eyed his best friend from the top of his head to his toes as soon as Natsume opened the door to his special star suite. Relieved that Natsume didn't look any worse than usual after returning from one of his missions, Ruka nodded to Natsume, who stepped back, letting Ruka come in. He noted the many bruises that decorated Natsume's skin, but that was nothing strange. At the very least, there were no open wounds.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're back?"

Natsume shrugged, grabbed the towel that was hanging on his neck, and rubbed his wet hair. "I needed some time alone."

"I heard that you were already back two days ago." Ruka couldn't help the accusing tone that escaped through his lips.

Either Natsume didn't notice or he merely ignored it. "Like I said, I needed some time alone."

"A couple of days."

Natsume let the wet towel slip through his fingers to the floor and pushed his damp hair back. The movement made the muscles in his arms and back move and shift. At thirteen, Natsume was already taller than most of the kids his age, his young slim body toned and flawless due to the Persona's ruthless training. Besides, when your life depended on how fast you could dodge a bullet, you made damn sure you took care of your body.

Ruka picked up the wet towel and threw it onto the bathroom floor. "You said you would only be a couple of days."

Natsume merely lifted an eyebrow. "So?"

Gritting his teeth, Ruka scowled at his friend when he sat on the couch and turned on his TV. "Two or three days, that's a couple of days. Not five."

"Iwas gone for three days."

Ruka hated to nag, but he opened his mouth anyway. "Then where were you for the last two days?"

"Here."

Ruka blinked. "You were here?"

Natsume merely nodded, not taking his eyes from the TV. Ruka looked at Natsume's face, trying to make out if he was lying or not. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted-"

"To be alone. Yeah, yeah, what does that have to do with not telling us that you were already back?"

Natsume noticed that 'me' had changed into 'us'. "Because if I did, you would never leave me alone."

"Yes, we would."

"No, you wouldn't." Natsume sighed. "Look, don't make such a big deal out of it. I needed those two days to wind down. To rest, alright?"

Ruka's blue eyes sharpened. Unless wounded, Natsume didn't really need to rest unless it was to catch on some sleep. "You're hurt."

"No. Just...tired. I need sleep."

Ruka took the hint. "You're going to class tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Ruka opened the door, and then hesitated. "Have you talked to Sakura?"

Natsume turned the TV off. "Of course not."

"She's going to come in late from her Special Ability class tonight. Talk to her, let her see that you're alright."

"Why should I?"

Ruka smiled the peaceful, serene smile that could always make Natsume feel like an ass. "Because you want to." And with that parting shot, he closed the door.

Ruka stayed there for a moment before walking along the hallway, thinking, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of any reason why his best friend would not look him in the eye. He needed someone to brainstorm with, someone who understood the intricacies of a complex and sensitive mind.

Strange as it may seem, he knew he needed Hotaru.

Natsume winced as he got up from the sofa, his aching muscles screaming in protest. "Suck it up, Natsume." He clenched his teeth, rolled his shoulder, and felt the sharp twinge between his shoulders. He continued to walk and stretch, pushing through the pain until he felt his muscles finally loosen and warm, his limbs and joints limber once more.

Before, it was all he could do to walk from the bathroom, to the door, and to the sofa underneath Ruka's hawk-like stare without whimpering in agony.

Since he was alone, he permitted himself a few curses. He was black and blue and sore all over, which was nothing new. The long dip in hot water that he took earlier had eased most of the soreness away, but there was nothing he could do about the bruises. He paused in front of the mirror and nodded in satisfaction when he saw that all the bruises could actually be covered by his uniform. He touched the bruise on his ribs, still tender yet, and hissed at the shock of pain on his trembling muscles.

At least his face was still intact due to his mask. He never thought that he would ever be thankful for the stupid mask. It wasn't like he was particularly vain; it was just that whenever his face got messed up, his fan club turned more rabid and fawning than ever. Not to mention a certain someone, who would hound and nag him to death.

He could just imagine the look on her baka-like face, wincing in empathy as though she was also feeling the pain, how she would get all teary eyed and badger him to no end, doing this and that, hovering, shoving salves and potions into his hands. And if he refused, she would just hound him until either she witnessed him put it on his wound or she would slap the damn things on herself. Her little fingers gently touching his face, flinching whenever he flinched, wincing whenever he winced…Natsume pursed his lips. On second thought, that's not such a bad idea…NO! Stop it! You are not going to mutilate yourself only to get her sympathy.

He sighed at his reflection in the mirror. "She contaminated you with her baka germs." He held his head when the world suddenly spun. "Deep breaths, deep breaths. You are not going to faint, you big sissy."

Feeling suffocated, he walked towards the window and opened it wide to let the midnight air in. He put on a shirt, but didn't bother to button it up since the cool air felt comforting on his bruises.

As he winced and cursed his way to his favorite section of the roof, he wondered how long he would be able to hide the truth from Ruka and- aware of the direction his thoughts were taking him, he cringed again.

It didn't surprise him when he felt guilty as soon as he opened the door and saw the look on Ruka's face. He didn't even blame Ruka for feeling disgruntled over the fact that he didn't tell him that he was back. It was Ruka, his best friend; he had earned the right to get pissed at him. What bothered and made him itchy all over was that he was starting to feel the same way towards the damn baka. Like he owed her something.

It was baffling, the immediate affinity that he felt with her, the unmistakable attraction, the unbreakable hold that she had over him. He realized that her innate ability to annoy, irritate, and make him angry by just being there was because he cared, sometimes a little too much.

This wasn't the first, the second, nor the third time he questioned his feelings for the girl and he doubt it would be the last, but though he questioned it from time to time, rebelled against it, banged his head against it, one thing he never did was deny it. Even when he didn't understand what it was exactly he was feeling, he acknowledged that she was different and that she did catch his eye.

There was no point in denying it anyway and Natsume already did too many pointless things already. He trusted himself, trusted his instincts because if he couldn't trust those two things, well, then he'd be dead.

So, if his body and heart told him he had feelings, then he had feelings.

Though he had no idea how these feelings showed up in the first place.

It wasn't like he was short on girls; if he wanted one, all he needed to do was to take his pick of the very large litter.

It was not because she so obviously had a mind of her own and it wasn't because of her abnormally caring heart that genuinely believed that there was good in everybody. It was also not because of her loyalty or her bravery or her tenacity and determination to fight for what she believed in. It wasn't just because one of these things.

He liked her because he did and that was all there was to it. Simple. Baffling.

He had to admit the girl had guts and an inner strength that let her to trust, to believe, to love, and to forgive whole heartedly, even though how much she was betrayed, lied to, disappointed, or how much she got hurt over and over again. Every time she fell, she picked herself up and shrugged like nothing had happen…literally and metaphorically.

She was a crybaby, sure. Natsume couldn't count the many times he saw her cry, but it was always because of somebody else's problems. She even cried for him, and though it embarrassed him, saddened him, he couldn't help, but feel happy that she cared.

He had no idea why he was feeling what he was feeling; he only knew that he did.

Natsume closed his eyes as the cold started to seep into his skin, and then opened them to spread his gaze upon the sky where pricks of light winked gently. Before realizing it, he started to raise his power to warm him up, but then thought better of it. So he shivered in the cold, taking comfort that he could actually feel something.

He didn't lie to Ruka; he did return from the mission two days ago and he wasn't hurt more than usual. His desire to be alone was also true, so was his need for rest.

Natsume grimaced against the prick of guilt. Okay, so I left out a few things. Like the two days he spent in bed, weak and numb, his power maxed out, his thoughts dark and disturbing. But it wasn't because of the mission, so to his way of thinking, he didn't have the obligation to tell Ruka.

He brushed a hand on his drying hair and stopped when it accidentally touched his left ear where a second earring hung; a metallic gold hoop that pierced the lobe, a thin delicate chain connecting it to another circlet at the shell of his ear. His third and fourth limiters. He fisted the hand that touched it, suppressing the urge to yank it off.

He'd forgotten about it, which was surprising because for the last two days since Persona forced it on him, the time he spent in bed were filled with the impulse to burn it to a crisp. It was another leash, another chain, another symbol of their control over him. A symbol of their ownership, further evidence that his life was not really his.

It was a good thing that Ruka hadn't noticed it. I have to be careful next time.

Natsume narrowed his eyes when he saw something move through the line of trees heading towards the dorm areas. After a few seconds of watching the thing stumble and fall flat on the ground, he realized what, or more precisely, who it was.

It was none other than Mikan Sakura, aka Baka Youjo, aka polka-dotted panties.

What the hell is she doing walking in the woods alone so late at night?

He started to stand and go after her, but changed his mind. She was already reaching the end of the forest anyway. With a scowl, he watched her run the whole way with her hands on her ears, weaving a crooked path like a blind masochistic drunk.

Someone's been telling her ghost stories again. The baka probably has her eyes closed. Natsume winced when she fell down again and shook his head when she almost rammed herself against a tree.

She's going to kill herself if I don't do something.

Natsume took a deep, deep breath and let it out through his mouth. After a second or two, tendrils of smoke appeared, rolled in the air, and formed little balls of fire, pretty and harmless, at least until Natsume decided otherwise. They flirted around him for a while, dipping and diving in the air until they stopped to hover over his head, and then zoomed fast towards the girl, who was currently dusting off her skirt at the edge of the forest.

Mikan was standing, bent over the waist, hands on her knees, the classic posture of catching one's breath.

Talk to her. Let her see that you're alright.

Why should I?

Because you want to.

Natsume grumbled inwardly, his friend always had a knack for guessing and anticipating his thoughts and wants. He admitted that he did want to see her, so much that he found himself knocking on her bedroom door the minute he arrived at the academy. Tired out of his mind, beaten up black and blue, his feet had automatically walked up to her room, forgetting that it was Friday morning and that meant school.

When he finally realized what he was doing, it mortified him right to his bones.

He lifted his right knee and laid his chin on it as he watched Mikan's attention stray from the ground towards the flashing lights that were flying towards her. He laughed when he saw her take a few steps back, an appropriate reaction since they were flying fast enough to actually knock her out.

Natsume could almost see her confused, yet curious, expression when the lights slowed, stopped in front of her and hovered in the air. And when she tilted her head and reached out a hand to the lights, he smiled.

If Hotaru was there (and who could really be sure that she wasn't?), she'd probably be taking pictures, cackling to herself in glee, already counting her rabbits. If Ruka was there, he'd probably be sighing softly, puzzled on why his friend was so adamant on feigning indifference towards a certain girl. If Sumire and his fan girls were there, they'd probably be shrieking the whole academy down, and if Mikan could somehow see him, she'd ask him 'why is he looking so sad?'

His crimson eyes stayed on Mikan as she played with the lights, their movements slow and playful as they flew around her, over her. She skipped and clapped her hands in a childish gesture of delight.

Such a child.

With the balls of fire illuminating the way, she didn't trip as much as she would've. Her steps were light as she walked closer to their dorm.

He watched her lift both arms to the side, and then above her head as she did a slow and surprisingly elegant pirouette, the fire balls swirling along with her, in tune with her movements.

Natsume watched and his breath caught in his throat when she tossed her head back and laughed. Conspiring against him, the wind picked up the bright sound of her laughter and brought it to him as it teasingly lifted strands of his hair from his face. Natsume felt the quick heated punch of young lust tightening the muscles of his stomach and the slow delicious slide of desire warming his body, forcing him to catch his breath when want changed into need.

He jerked in his seat when Mikan suddenly looked up, as if she knew that he was there. For a minute, she only stood there before lifting up a hand to wave at him. Natsume frowned when she stayed there in the cold then frowned some more when she waved both her hands this time, pointed to the fire balls, pressed her palms together, then bowed.

Natsume snorted, amused. "Silly girl." He leaned forwards when Mikan moved her body this way and that. "Now what is she up to?"

For a moment Natsume though she was under the power of the sick jokester, Andou. Either that or she was having seizures of the weirdest kind. At the very least, he guessed that she was attempting to do a rain dance.

He was in the middle of deciding whether to jump down and get her help when he realized that she wasn't trying to call down the rain; she was trying to shape her body into words.

He lifted both his brows and read.

O-K-A-E-R-I. Okaeri. Welcome home.

She ended the message with a 'ta-da' gesture and although he couldn't see it, he knew she had a huge bright smile on her face.

A couple of seconds ticked by, with Natsume staring and Mikan looking up. Then suddenly, Mikan yipped when in front of her very eyes, the fireballs that looked cute and pretty turned into onibi (spirit orbs, spirit fire), Natsume could see her mouth moving, rapidly alternating between screams and curses on Natsume's head as she ran away from the onibi that chased after her.

"Damn stupid girl," Natsume mumbled against his knee, feeling the warmth of his cheek through his pants. He groaned miserably at the embarrassing feeling of shyness, mixed in with prickles of happiness. He didn't need a mirror to show him that his face was as red as a baboon's butt or to show him the big idiotic smile stamped on his face.

"Stupid. Stupid girl," He said to no one in particular, but although his selections of words were harsh, his tone was gentle and affectionate. The look on his usually cold face was wistful, his eyes soft and warm.

Natsume threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, helpless to fight the urge to savor the tender and sweet feeling that layered his heart, enjoying the addictive taste of happiness as he repeated the scene again and again in his mind.

He chuckled at the look on her face when she saw the onibi and as the chuckle turned to a laugh, he rolled around the bed, laughing himself breathless.

The smile on his face faltered when he remembered how she twirled slowly, her long, long hair spreading in one perfect continuing motion, his fire circling her slender body, her arms; white and pale in the darkness.

He touched his chest when his heart tripped once, twice before returning to its usual rhythm.

There was also the look on her face as she laughed; happy, free. To think that just one gesture, something that he really didn't even think through, was able to make her so happy…

"Mikan." It came out as more than a breath, less than a whisper, but was filled to the brim with all the yearning and longing of first love. "Mikan." He breathed into his pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep accompanied by the echoes of her name.

Natsume sighed softly, not noticing that he'd forgotten all about the cold.