This is a submission to Disorder of the Mind: Natsume contest. If you wish to participate, see Rekindled Moroseness's profile. Submission starts on January 14 and ends on March 8. Voting period is from March 12 to March 20 and the winner will be announced on Rekindled Moroseness's profile on March 22.
Title: Awake and Dreaming
Pen name: ThatGirl96
Type of disorder: Insomnia (Inability to sleep)
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~One night, five years ago~
"Natsume! Natsume, look what I found!" Natsume's sister ran to him, her hands cupped together, forming a cocoon. She eagerly opened her hands, allowing Natsume to glimpse what she held so sacredly in her hands.
"…Very …Nice…" Natsume finally said, hoping to not insult Aoi's feelings.
Protected in her hands which acted like shields was a shell. A small delicate thing, but beautiful. Shimmering of it when the sun hit just right was a magnitude of colors, a rainbow held captive on Earth; encased in a tiny space; hidden treasure. However, Natsume was a boy. Boys don't like girly things like shells. Especially not pretty shells- boys do have a reputation to take care of.
Natsume looked up, noticing the sky deepening to a deep azure, blinking lights appearing, teasing everyone below. "C'mon Aoi, let's go home. You need a shower."
"Okay! Hey, Natsume! I'm gonna put this on my 'SHELF OF PRETTY THINGS!" Aoi screamed, a happy eight year old, without a care in the world. She grabbed Natsume's hand, and dragged him towards their home; still babbling about her shelf. When they entered through the door, she released Natsume, and skipped up the stairs to the bathroom, singing a Disney tune.
Natsume rolled his eyes, and went to the kitchen, scavenging in the fridge for something edible, most preferable Snickers. He wondered who but Snickers in the fridge – but hey, it was a family habit. He grabbed his manga and walking out of the kitchen, he plopped himself on the coach, engrossing himself in the delicacies of his chocolate, and the leisure of his manga. Sometime in the night, he vaguely registered that his parents went of to bed, and his sister too – he was too into the manga. There's only so much a kid came stay up until they fall asleep, and fall asleep Natsume did. He didn't know it was one the last few times he would ever sleep peacefully-not plagued by nightmares.
He opened his eyes and crimson met crimson. His nose was set aflame with the smoke, and the world was crashing around him. Debris went everywhere, and his mind raced a hundred kilometres an hour, shuddering to a stop at one thing, one name, one person. "Aoi!" He tried to scream, and then he bent over, coughing. He slapped himself, and then he went to stairs. They were crumbling; he didn't think they would hold his weight. He banished the thought instantly. Racing up the stairs, two at a time to reach his sister. He could here her screaming, "Mommy! Daddy! Natsume! Help me!" His heart wrung and twisted, and he rushed ahead to her, his hand out streatched to her; he sees her in his minds eye.
Then he's yanked back, strong arms grab him, dragging him outside, dragging him away from Aoi, away from his life as he once knew it. Someone was muttering in his ear 'I got you, don't worry I got you.' He wanted to hit the masked man, but he was stronger, and in minutes he was outside, he didn't even realise he was choking from all the smoke. He didn't realize anything except for the fact that Aoi was in there, and he was out there. She was in danger, and he was safe.
"Aoi, Aoi, Aoi…" he repeated her name over and over again. The masked men looked at him, then at the house. Natsume looked too, at what was left of his house. It was gone, charred on the ground. Almost like it was never there. Almost like they were never there, like his family never existed.
~ Two years after the burning~
"Natsume….? Hey, Natsume! Talk to me!" A round-faced female of around thirteen years old ran to catch up with a boy who's eyes seemed too see nothing, and dark bags were drooping underneath them.
"Whaddya want Mikan? Damnit you're annoying." Said boy growled. HE appeared to be more exasperated than irrated by the girl, Mikan.
"Jeez. What's with you today? Your even more sullen that usual. And that's saying something."
"…"Natsume just walked on, eyes on the floor. After a few minutes he muttered "It's today." Mikan barely heard him.
She did notice his tone, and to be honest, she was scared. Normally she would be the one leaning on Natsume, she would be the one taking that tone of voice, she would be the one who sounded like she was going to burst into tears.
An awkward silence followed them as they walked on the path. Mikan the optimistic did not like awkward silences. They were awkward, and that would place her in the position of saying something that would have to break the silence, because that is traditionally the optimistic job.
"Natsume?" She called softly, "Y'know, if you want to talk you can, there's always tomorrow, or the day after. It's not ever too late."
He didn't reply.
The next month Mikan's mother grew sick. Natsume's entire gang tried to cheer her up, eventually Natsume just stood up and said straight to her face "Just get up and go Mikan. This time there might not be a 'tomorrow' or a 'day after'. And you know that." Mikan left the next day by train.
~Present day~
It was dark and all he knew is that feet and fists were flying, and connecting painfully with his body; to fast to know exactly were from, and to hard to know exactly were they hit. He just crouched there, bent over into himself, his only protection from the flying punches and kicks. He waits it out, his black hair covering his red eyes, with dark circles only accenting them. He waits for his turn. After five minutes, he thinks he's had enough.
Now he's the one on the offense, attacking in a wild flurry of motion. In less than three minutes, three bodies were strewn before him. The other five fled, like dogs with their tails in between their legs. After staring after them, he sighs – sweeping his bangs from his forehead, closing his eyes, refusing to see anything and everything around him.
He sighs, once more, and turns his back on the alleyway he's in, and starts to head home. His feet move without him needing to tell them were to go, it's not like he hasn't done the whole 'routine' before. Slowly passing the homeless man who always seem to be right at the corner before his home, Natsume absent mindly dropped a loony in the hobo's tin, as he always did, and turned into his driveway, ignoring the mans muttered thanks.
He opens his crimson eyes now, blessing the world with their brilliance. Sighing once more – but definitely not for the last time – he inserts the key into his lock, and enters his home. Breathing in deeply, he wills his mind back to times when all the shadows were scared away by the sound of tinkling laughter. His mind takes him back to the time he would come home, and almost immediately be swept to the ground by the feel of love that once spread threw this house like a virus – infecting everyone. The only tears shed here were from joy, the only shrieks of laughter. Everyone was happy. Something he took for granted back then. No longer, even if he'll take the time to reminisces.
The shrill, demanding tone of the phone brought him back to reality. Shaking his raven hair into his eyes (a habit he became recently accustomed to) he walked into the kitchen, only sparing a glance at the clock, which read 10:15 PM. He now knew who was calling and wondered to himself why he bothered. Natsume picked up the phone and wearily held it to his ear, "Hey, Luka."
"Natsume, are you all right?" Luca's worried tone demanded.
"Yes, how are you?"
"I'm okay."
An awkward pause made its way into their conversation. Natsume decided to break it. "Why do you do this, Luka?"
Luka didn't answer for the longest time. Finally, he sighed, "Natsume, you know why. Because I'm your friend, and I love you," Luka added, "Do not; turn that into a something perverted, Natsume."
Natsume grinned, for the first time that night. "I wasn't about to"
"Sure sure," Natsume could here the smile in Luka's voice. "Wanna go for a walk? We normally go on weeknights."
"Not tonight Luka, not tonight." Natsume sighed.
"Call me if you need me then, "Luka said as he hung up on Natsume.
"You know that's not going to happen, "Natsume muttered to the phone, fully aware that Luka was no longer there.
But sometimes, when you have as much free time as Natsume, you find yourself talking to air. Natsume had lots of experience with free time.
Natsume wandered over to the kitchen, wondering whether or not he had any leftovers, and if not should he cook or take-out. Gradually he decided he no longer wanted to be near his house – near his memories – and he walked brusquely out of his house. He hastily lifts his hand to his forehead, wiping off sweat he didn't even know was there. Blearily he closed his eyes with his hand, welcoming few moments of bliss.
Then someone bumped into him.
Natsume hurriedly opened his eyes to see a sixteen-year old woman sitting on the path, apparently fallen over by the impact of hitting him. Her groceries were strewn on the ground, and an ice cream cone was beside her, the strawberry ice cream splattered everywhere. The girl was sitting in such a position that Natsume could see her underwear: strawberry.
He was immediately assaulted with an army of memories, memories he thought he had locked away. Memories he had banished. Memories he refused to admit to himself were his memories.
He bent over to pick up the groceries that had spilled out of the girl's bag, allowing her a few moments to change into a half-decent position. He turned to her; analyzing her with an once-over look. He had picked up that habit a couple of years ago. She had long, auburn hair, tied into two pigtails trailing down her back; her eyes were the color of dark rich honey.
He knew her. He knew her so damn well. And as she looked up, he saw that she knew him too.
"Natsume…" she breathed. Her breathe came out in short gasps, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Natsume…." She repeated, and then lay silent for a while.
Natsume just stared. And stared. And stared some more. His eyes flashed between the present and the past, he kept seeing this girl as she grew up, then as she was now, a woman. He saw himself running with her, her hand fit so snugly in his, he saying he loved her, his mouth on hers, her hands pushing him away.
She broke him out of his reverie, "Hey."
Natsume snapped his head up. "Polka-dots," he called back his nick-name for her, hoping it's use might distract her from asking questions he didn't have answers too. "Long time no see."
She stared stonily back at him, "If I remember correctly, Natsume, you are the one who practically yelled at me to go?"
He turned, and began walking away. He chose his words carefully, choosing words that would hurt her most. "You never know, there's always a tomorrow, or a day after..." He called shortly over his back, re-acting a scene from not too long ago.
He walked back to the house he was running away from a mere few minutes ago. He sighed, and looked at the room around him.
For the third time that night his mind called back images from the past. He sees himself as a kid, running into the arms of his mother, grabbing onto the leg of his father, watching his sister run around in the backyard, coming back to him later with a crown of daisies. "Natsume look!" she had cried," You be prince and I'll be princess!" He had laughed; drawn her into a hug.
Tears gathered in Natsume's eyes. Angrily he brushed them away with a furious stroke of his hand. He sighed and looked at the calendar: Sunday. Great, he thought, school tomorrow. Joy
He sighed (once again) and walked to the backyard, which was still charred form the accident. He plops himself up on a picnic table, set right in the middle of his backyard, and leans back, looking at the sky. Waiting for tomorrow, he passes the dreamless night watching the stars flirt with him.
"Natsume~!" an excited voice called and said person found arms being wrapped around his waist. He sighs, wondering what he had done to make his day go so wrong from the morning.
"Get. Off. Now. Sumire." He growls.
"And good morning to you too!" Sumire huffed, blowing her bangs from her eyes. "Oh!" her eyes lit up, "Natsume! Natsume! You'll never guess who's here. It's her! Mikan! Mikan's back!"
Natsume's back stiffened. He wanted to bang his head against a wall. No, scratch that, he wanted to strangle Sumire. "So?" he asked, faking nonchalance.
"Hello Natsume," a soft voice called from behind him. Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, he thought wryly.
"Hey Polka-dots."
An uncomfortable silence settled.
"Natsume!" Luka called, heading over to him, their gang trailing behind him. Then he stopped short. "Uh… hey there Mikan." He somehow managed to get out.
The only time Natsume has ever loved the bell was then.
He nodded a farewell to everyone gathered around them, and headed to his locker. He gathered his books in a sort of trance, the titles blending together 'PhysMathEngLawGeoHist' a garbled mess, just like his life, his mind.
First period came and went, second in the same fashion. Then it was lunch. He sat with his mini gang at their table, sitting like an outsider, while everyone gathered around Mikan, catching up.
"Hey, hey, Mikan! How was your mother?" Koko asked her, in between bites of hamburger.
"She's gotten better, thanks Koko." She flashed him an over-brilliant smile. Natsume's eyes hurt. She was that angelic. After five minutes of non-stop chatter, he picked up his tray, his salad barely touched, and escaped, like a ghost.
Natsume walked, looking calm and collected, nodding to people who called out greetings. Even though on the inside he was waging war. He settled underneath 'his' tree, its leaves full out, soaking up every drop of sunshine that fell on their faces. He closed his eyes, welcoming a dark people shied away from. Just another one of his qualities that attracted the murmured rumors, the pointing fingers, and the smiles hidden behind hands.
"Natsume," Mikan, again. She arrived after about half an hour of him leaving the cafe.
"I know my name, Polka-dot." He called, still not opening his eyes.
"Yeah? Well that seems about all you know." She retorted
"You have something to say come right out and say it Polka-dot."
"Something? I have some things to say to you. Many things Natsume. So many things."
Natsume remained silent, and Mikan plowed on. "Why did you look at me like that yesterday Natsume? What did I do to you?"
Natsume still said nothing, but he was rubbing his hands over eyes.
"I forgive you so many times, and you look at me like that! Natsume damn it look at me!"
"It's the first day of school Mikan, simmer down. There's always tomorrow."
"If you wanna talk freaking talk Natsume! Don't pretend you were alone! People can see you as you y'know. It's not a … a weakness y'know?"
"Whaddya want me to say Mikan? That I was heartbroken? That I felt the world turned without me? Huh?" Suddenly Natsume was on his feet yelling.
"I want you to tell me what's wrong. Don't push me away like I'm not anybody. After all I've done for you, you still can't tell me about one night?! I've been your girlfriend for five god damned years!"
The bell had rung five minutes ago, Natsume realized numbly. That's why nobody was around, or staring at him and Mikan.
"You want me to tell you?" Natsume whispered, "Then I'll tell you" Half way through his 'story', Natsume's voice had taken on a dreamy tone; his eyes were open and staring raptly at Mikan, but she felt that he wasn't seeing her at all. When he finished, Natsume was panting, but he didn't realize he was crying, he didn't realize that Mikan was holding him. "You know what changed me back?" He whispered in her ear. He then whispered one word, over and over again.
They sat like that for sometime, shaking, trembling. The only sound was Natsume whispering that one word in her ear, each time he felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.
Mikan pulled out of his hold, ten minutes before the bell rang for the end of the day. She whispered in his ear, "Have a good nights sleep, Natsume."
He grinned, a 100% genuine pure happy smile. A first for Natsume, but he had a feeling he would have quite a few first in the next few weeks.
"See you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Tomorrow, and the day after, and everyday after that."
~ * ~ * ~ *~ *
That night, at 10:15 PM, Luka called. "Hey."
"Hey" Natsume replied.
"Wanna take a walk?" Luka offered.
"Y'know Luka? I have a feeling that I won't need a walk in a long time."
"Finally" Luka breathed.
"I heard that"
"Good" Luka shortly replied.
"Don't go using my lines Luka"
Luka laughed. "Good night Natsume, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite" he teased.
"Same."
Luka hung up.
Natsume allowed himself a shred of hope. He wondered if today would be the day he awoke from his nightmare. He laughed at the irony.
He forced his feet toward his room, one he hasn't used for so wrong.
He changed into his boxers, slipping a shirt over his bare torso. He carefully lifted the covers of his bed, an action that was once familiar to him. He settled himself under, and the moment his eyes closed, he slipped under waves of dreams.
For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to tomorrow.
~ * ~ * ~ *
Disclaimer: Don't you go telling me I don't own Gakuen Alice.
Shhhh, you didn't see anything? RIGHT?
Meh, not really pleased with this. However, decide its worth for yourself. (P.S REVIEW)
Okay, this has been edited, so please, if you spot any mistakes, please point them out.