Hey guys! I'm back with a new chapter... sorry it took so long. And yes, I did post Chapter 5 before taking it down again.

FrozenCrimsonCroissants: Yay, you again! Thank you so much for your review! Mikan doesn't exactly have a servant... you'll see in future chapters. :) I hate headaches... whether or not they were caused by alcohol. I'm glad you don't mind replies on the chapter! I'll be doing this from now on.

Feu: Heeey there. Good to see you again! This chapter may be confusing, but that's the fun part! Right?

Guest: Maybe it was Natsume. There were a few distinguishing attributes. :) Did you spot them?

StoryWithoutWords: Hehe, don't worry... I'm not TOO much of a dirty writer! Maybe you'll like this chapter? xD

Guest: Haha, you got it! Ruka not Natsume is her brother! You said Reo. You just might be right.

Ayame-hime 11d7: I'm glad you liked the previous chapter. :) Hopefully, you'll like this too!

SupOtherOtakuFans: My bad. I took the first version of Chapter 5 before reposting it today. Hope you won't hold it against me too much. :)

Meekymanga: I MIGHT have made up that coffee beans part... I don't remember where I got chocolate coffee beans - I'm pretty sure I got them SOMEWHERE if not from Starbucks.

Derp1Derp2: Haha. I'm glad you're starting to find this enjoyable. :)

Guest: Yep, I'm glad you like this!

Guest: 1% of what left? xD

Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

Warning: This chapter has a lot of odd dialect, so pace yourself while you're reading.


"Honestly Mickey, what were you thinking?"

"I a-thinkin' Reo git bummed fer zis."

"I haven't an inkling what you're saying. You're completely hammered, aren't you?"

"Ain't not."

It seems that I was on the floor, sprawled against cold tile. Something was under my head; it was soft, I think, and bouncy. It's freaking bouncy; it was a cloud. I concluded that my head was lying on a soft cloud, and I was floating on cold rock.

It seemed legit.

Something bass pulsed in the background. It felt like I was underwater again, and no amount of oxygen was able to make its why into my ears to clarify the sound.

Something shook my shoulder roughly. "Mick. Mick."

I shook my head. It was painful.

Bringing my head to a halt, I kept my eyes screwed shut. Holding up my right hand limply, I dribbled; the saliva traced my lower lip before making a sticky beeline for my chin. Moaning, I muttered, "Figh moor mint-uts, Mum…" Clenching my eyes even tighter, I nuzzled deeper into the cloud.

"Lights tern off."

Turn the lights off...

An irritated sigh makes it way to my ear. "Yep, you're completely hammered – the lights are barely even on, Mikan."

"You no like hammering, zen go tatch 'em roofs."

"I'm not a thatcher." I think his voice turned serious. "Mikan, do you even know what time it is?"

Somehow, that ignited fits of giggles from my stomach. Convulsing, I snorted into the little cloud under my head. Pressing two fingers into the dull pain in my skull, I slurred, "It ish Shir'y Te'ple ti'e."

"You're giving me horrible headache, listening to you."

I buried my nose deeper into the cloud.

My dull senses picked up faint fragrances of what seemed pinecone and evergreens. But at the point in time, it hardly seemed fragrant.

"And," his voice hardened as he repeated his earlier phrase, "Do you know what time it is?"

I don't know why, but in my assumingly drunken state, all I could hear was a purple dinosaur singing incessantly into my ear.

"For fuck's sake! Mikan, stop dosing off."

"You, did you know you soun' se-x-y 'hen you 'ay fuck?"

His voice was incredulous. "I sound sexy when I say fuck?"

I nodded feebly, hugging myself closer.

"I hate breaking it to you, but it's goddamn three in the morning. So I suggest you get on off your sorry ass," he whispered furiously as he leaned down to my ear, "get your hair out of your mouth, and drag yourself home."

Home.

That word echoed distantly, bouncing off the walls of my conscience.

"I haven't go' no home."

"Mikan."

I remained silent.

"Mikan," he repeated, acting all high and mighty again.

Irritated, I wiggled my liquid-y legs. "What?" I snap.

"Open your eyes."

"You ain't not makin' meh."

"Mikan."

If voices could kill, I swear that I'd have already been dead… drowning in a large tub of Diamondback shots.

"Fine, fine." Somehow, the fog in my mind managed to disperse slowly. Peeling my eyes open painfully, I squinted upwards. A sharp nip tugged at my neck.

The feeling was most unpleasant.

Writhing in discomfort, I gave up and shut my eyes again.

He sighed. "Stay here. I'm getting you a blanket."

A blanket?

"I dun't need a blun-ket."

In a hazy daze, I pushed myself onto my elbows. Everything around me blurred instantly as bout after bout of explosion blinded me senseless. Everywhere I looked, there seemed to be bubbles of light and darkness. It felt as if I was looking about through crossed eyes.

Somewhere nearby, the sound of percussion rattled me to the core. Greatly annoyed, a hand found its way to my forehead.

Eyesight darkening, I squinted, dimly making out the outline of white substance stuck into a wall; several sinks, it seemed, were lined up against another side, large, circus-like mirrors looming above them.

The lower region of my body seemed incapable of functioning above that of the most minimum actions.

What sounded like a door swung open.

I attempted to turn around.

What met me was like a blow to the face. Gasping, my head cracked upwards as I stared at the ceiling, openmouthed. The fireworks shooting up my spine were unbearable. Teeth gritted, I dropped back onto the tiled-floor, falling against my elbows.

You must be an ugly sight, Mikan.

Shut up.

Propped up on elbows, I stiffened.

A leather foot stood in line with what I assumed was my stomach. As the figure clad in black leaned down, my eyes dilated as they stared ahead.

Pervert alert.

Pervert alert.

RAPIST alert.

But I remained stiff.

The scent of rain and lemonade engulfed my senses.

Shying away from the steady breathing at my neck, I screwed my eyes shut.

I think I saw stars.

Instead of a rom com-style smooch on the lips, a suave voice floated enticingly into my ears, filtering through my drunken state.

The voice evidently did not belong to my three-o'clock savior.

"It's a pity we met in a bar."

And just like that, images of Lynchburg Lemonade, freshly-remembered Diamondbacks, and rashly-thought-up Aunt Robertas crashed into my existence.

And just like that, I was sucked back into darkness as I dropped out of this world.


Somewhere down the stone lane, a girl with flaxen hair stood alone, small bluebells threaded into her two braids. A simple blue dress encircled in minuscule beads adorned her body. In her hand, she clutched a small bouquet of flowers tightly. Thin, pale lips curved into an uptight grimace as she shifted her weight between each sandaled foot.

Standing several feet away, I couldn't help but stare.

Every time I saw this young teenager, she never seemed to age, and she never seemed to smile.

A small jerk tugged at my heart. My purpled hands found its way to my chest as they clasped themselves over one another.

Her thin lips parted, as if to say something.

I leaned forward, not daring to take even one step closer to the girl with flaxen hair. I was afraid… afraid that she would disappear with first contact, afraid that she would leave me, and afraid that she wasn't real. Straining my ears, I shivered, and waited.

Her lips closed. Not a single utterance escaped her pale form.

Yet she was beautiful.

From behind her, a large oak tree swayed, and suddenly, it snapped.

As a strangled cry escaped my throat, the girl, along with the scenery, vanished.

There was an indefinite shriek, and everything turned white.

"Mikan, how did you get home last night?"

That voice.

Hugging myself, I pretend to be deaf. Snippets of flaxen hair and the color red wriggle into my mind.

As something shook my shoulders, it reminded my briefly of my shower incident.

Somehow, I couldn't open my eyes.

Stop shaking me…

"Baby sister?"

Don't call me that.

Foggily, I open my eyes.

There is no teenager with flaxen hair; there aren't any bluebells or oak trees… I am nowhere desirable.

Pushing the sheets away from me, I shivered with cold. Groggily, I muttered, "Why don't I have a headache?"

"Nevermind why."

I rubbed my eyes. Licking my dry lips, I turned my head to examine the voice.

"Did you sleep with anyone last night?"

I froze. I bloody froze. "Pardon?" I croaked.

"Did you kiss anyone last night?"

Pulling the blankets back under my chin, I huddled in the mattress. Shooting my brother an odd look, I gawked at him. "What?"

I am pretty sure that he just blatantly asked me if I had sex with anyone last night.

"You heard me."

I gazed at his purple eyes.

Shaking my head slowly, I bit my lower lip. "No, why?"

"You were outright drunk."

"It was your fault," I retorted.

"And how was it mine?"

Reo stroked my head as he continued watching me attentively.

"You invited me to the bar."

"Ho-ho. Lil' sis, don't blame your demise on others."

Growing annoyed quickly, I lay back down and burrowed into my pillow.

"What did you do last night?"

Frustrated, I aimed a misplaced kick into the blankets. "I don't know! Why did you ask? I was bloody drunk!"

"You don't remember anything?"

Do I remember anything? Bloody heck, I don't know. Maybe everything was merely a figment of my imagination.

"Well?" my brother continued prompting.

Closing my eyes, I sighed, "I don't know. You tell me."

"Idiot. Get up."

I shook my head and hugged the sheets closer to my body. An oddly-familiar scent of wet rain nipped at my senses.

"Mikan, get up," he repeated.

Heaving a sigh, I asked tiredly, "What time is it?"

"Not sure."

Scowling, I writhed out of bed. Leaning against a wall, I couldn't be bothered to open the shades. I liked the semi-darkness of my room anyway.

Shrugging, I pointed at my brother. "You owe me for waking up."

He straightened. Looking at me straight in the eye, he denied, "No. I do not owe you anything."

With a dismissive wave, I slouched towards my uninviting closet. Glancing down at the sole orange bra I was wearing, I wrinkled my nose in distaste.

Shivering, I pulled a hanger from the dark cavern. "Yes you do."

He walked up behind me. Whispering into my ear, the warm scent of peppermint tickled my nostrils. "You owe me."

Fighting back a retort, I swatted Reo's hands away from sweater in my hand. "Yeah right, big time," I said sourly.

"You do."

Throwing up my hands in exasperation, I groaned, "What is it?"

"Sakurano."

Chewing my lip, a brief flash of blondish-red hair reminded me of Reo's (and mine, admittedly) close friend. "What about him?"

"He's on the couch."

"So what? Maybe he decided to spend the night."

It was then that I realized that it was our childhood friend who had escorted me home from who-knows-what-I-was-doing last night.

No one bloody cares anyway.

"He didn't just spend the night, Mikan." Reo's hands were on my waist, his grasp tightening.

Unsure, I pulled away from his grip. Wriggling into my purple sweatshirt, I snapped, "Then what?"

I wasn't sure whether or not Reo knew that it was my green-eyed senior who pulled me dropped me off at my apartment.

His voice lowered by an octave as his hands found its way to my wrists. "He's dead."


Hey everyone. I bet you lot are all confused, right? Good! That'll make the story on my part a lot more fun!

Kindly drop a review? :)