AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello I'm back!!! Miss me? Nyahaha. I made this chapter long, as promised. :) So hope you like it! Those who reviewed, thank you! It's very well appreciated. Makes me want to update more, hehe. Alright, enough formalities, let's move on to chapter 5…
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Circumstances of a Love Story
CHAPTER FIVE
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Three days have passed since the meeting with Natsume the Anonymous… Mikan went on with her daily activities, trying to brainwash herself and forget about him—
--an impossible feat, she soon found out.
She sighed as she rode her pink bicycle on her way to town, recalling and dreaming what would've been if she wasn't such a crybaby and stayed to get to know him better.
The handsome and fabulously wealthy Natsume…
"I just bet he's everybody's dreamboy…" she thought glumly, dreaming up of him having a whole willing harem by himself, "He must get sick of seeing girls swooning and falling over his feet all the time." She sighed again…then stopped, also skidding her bike to a full halt.
Now, just exactly why she be thinking these sad, lonely thoughts?
He's the one who gave the pre-emptive strike! She only acted on her own--well, instinct. Even that pasty face Shin would testify to that.
Mikan reminded herself again how he acted the first time—the recall making her bitter and mad all over again—and felt satisfied. That would kill her fantasy, even for awhile.
A car's persistent honking slapped her back into reality and she snapped to the sound for a moment.
"Hey! If you're tryin to get yourself get killed on the road, then don't do it with my car! It's recently been carwashed!" the grumpy driver proclaimed in a blaring voice like that of a megaphone, extending his hairy fist for exclamation, "Now get out of the damn middle of the wide road and put your ass on the sidewalk where you and junk bike belong, you daydreaming !#$!!"
Mikan nearly scrambled and fell on the side, as if the man's words whipped at her. He sped his car a split second after she had snatched away the bike on time and saved her feet from getting crushed.
She stared at the departing car, feeling suddenly confused and miserable at how this world worked… She was 17 years old with a child-like maturity, a fragile heart that was way too soft for its own good and own issues to settle regarding her self-esteem. And that mean man didn't even consider it.
Now she stared at the departing car with the furious driver who was very mad at her for stopping in the middle of the road to think her own thoughts…
Without thinking, Mikan rearranged her bike, sat on it, and pedaled herself home. She didn't like to imagine what would become of her if she received a more inhumanely treatment than that. If it came to it, maybe she'd have a nervous breakdown, or sit in a corner and hug her knees to her chest, or maybe just disappear.
Just how impervious can the world be, given her circumstances? Maybe...
Maybe it just didn't give a damn about her after all.
For one second as she mechanically rode her bike on the pavement, her mind still shaken after what happened, she thought these thoughts at the back of her mind…and for just one moment, she nearly stumbled upon the universal, unpleasant fact on which this world revolved.
But for now, Mikan maintains her innocence.
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The same routine for the next few school days worked beautifully; at least it kept the raging monsters in her mind at bay. She wakes up in the morning, takes breakfast, rides her bicycle to school, listens blankly to the lessons with half her attention divided between schoolwork and her personal thoughts, then head home feeling worthless yet satisfied. But that part helped a lot in keeping herself coordinated and straight.
Mikan entered the classroom that day, sliding the door with the barest whisper of plastic sliding past, so very unlike her routine bangings every morning.
"Good morning…" she muttered sullenly and lurched towards her seat. Tobita, Nonoko and Anna gave her a glance in reply, then stopped and stared, noting the big change in her tone. Even Hotaru gave her complete, undetached attention for the first time.
Mikan slid into her seat, floating dreamily on the subspace of her mind which was the barricade she built, if not totally oblivious to their sudden interest in her.
"They notice me more than when I'm very loud each morning… And I'm not even saying anything to get their attention." Mikan thought distantly, amused at the irony of it, "Maybe I should stay like this…And then everyone will start appreciating me better." She sighed, a hollow, empty laugh rippling through her mind. For some reason, none of this was making her feel any better. And the classmates took this perfect opportunity to observe and watch her with blank eyes just when she was at her damnedest moment. Great timing.
But maybe it was for the good of it; she set up these barricades of melancholy around her anyway, in the hopes to completely eliminate traces of the ill-received meeting. The drawback was, of course the people around can't help noticing the big difference, which may just be perfect for her plan to attain a state of hermitage; people will ponder for awhile at the cause of this sort of illness pulling her down, and when they can't guess an answer for her sudden change, they'll leave her alone and mind their own business.
Exactly why how she ended up with these thoughts of becoming a hermit and intentionally pulling her down had to do much with---yup, guessed right---her meeting with Natsume the Anon. It was that dramatic for her.
As sensitive as Mikan was for everyone's feelings, she was also that sensitive to her own, and the breach that the meeting caused was enough to make her feel left out and deliberately ostracize herself.
One particular anxious friend noticed the changes, however. Mikan's sudden glum appearance was a spectacular shift that was even more promiscuous than her loud voice, Hotaru observed. That was reason enough. Now Hotaru's thinking what could possibly have brought this bubbly, energetic girl down; this Mikan girl who wouldn't even shy from the blasts of her famous baka gun or even threatened by the biggest bully in school. Nope, there was something else shrinking her spirits low…And Hotaru was certain it was big enough to keep her mind occupied and zombie-like for the past few days. It's eating inside her.
The raven-haired girl stood up and began walking to her seat. Usually Mikan looks up brightly even before she approaches; an animal instinct she had for Hotaru's presence. But now, the pig-tailed girl simply sunk lower in her seat as though an unseen force was weighing her down. Even her usual always-elevated pigtails drooped low, sharing her sadness.
Hotaru stood before her seat, staring down at her with vague eyes. Mikan had enough spirit to look up and greet her.
"Hotaru… You're here." Her tone was of recognition, but not close enough to being friendly. Even to Hotaru's ears who's been so used to Mikan's megaphone of a voice, it sounded alien. Out of place.
It had no right coming from Mikan's lips… Hotaru was thinking, somewhat annoyed. In truth, deep within she hated Mikan for behaving so sickly, even though she was perfectly fine as hay.
"Mikan. What's wrong?" she asked the first concerned question regarding her. The ones who heard were more surprised than Mikan's sudden change, but they said nothing.
The pale girl did not react as strongly; her melancholic mind didn't even have time to think about it. "Nothing, Hotaru…" she immediately spoke the words that sprung in her mind, then added a little laugh to prove it, "It's nothing at all…"
Hotaru stared at her blankly, the look in her eyes like a scientist finding a major flaw in one of the test specimens, "Even her futility to hide her emotions is pathetic. But it's still like Mikan to act like nothing's wrong..." she added with the considerate thought. She was suddenly determined to get to the heart of this matter.
…Whatever it takes.
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Mikan sighed satiated yet depressed as she made the rare detour to the town square on her way that particular afternoon, keeping her head low as she walked, as if the sinking light of the sun was harsh to her being.
A nice cup of tea would be nice for a change in this routine… she convinced herself with the fact before it could move on to less pleasant thoughts. After all, she's not so ignorant that she met Anon here in the first place… In this same town square that left too many chances for reminiscing.
The vast pavement marking the entrance to the town square appeared in view, looking the same as when she first came here happy and full of good hope. Memories clogged up for so long loosened up and threatened to make her dash away from the sight, but she firmly held her ground as she looked around the familiar grounds of the wide town square, looking majestic as the setting sun rinsed its stone grounds in bronze light. Nothing so grand and melancholic as her recall though, she thought with clenched teeth, holding up the trembling of her lips with the effort.
"For my cup of tea…" she grinded in her mind with much conviction, and took a big step forward to keep her moving.
In her mind's eye, she's seeing the place where she saw Shin, the supposed Anon, who eventually wasn't Anon… and then the familiar walk from the benches to that grand restaurant… feeling the inevitable creep of emotions that accompanied that event. The benches fashioned from wood and steel, lining in a circle around the potted tree in the center never appeared more nostalgic than it was, feeling the sting of disappointment and relief all over again when she realized Shin's confession.
Finally, after what seemed like walking for an eternity, she found herself looking unbelievingly at the front of the restaurant, her eyes wide with the recall.
It all suddenly became very clear now, as though she were reliving every second of the event by coming here. Her throat, though suddenly dry, ached no more for the nice cup of tea she earlier thought she craved and now only wanted nothing but the refreshing drink of homemade lemonade….
---In fact, her whole body ached for something back at home, maybe even the comfortable soft oblivion offered by her bed…
Her tears strongly threatening to resurface again, she turned around and began retreating with slow steps…only to be further stopped. Her eyes, wavering for a moment at seeing the memories again, now stared back to the man across her with wide clarity. Shock and a huge burst of unreality swept passed her like an impossibly strong wind, knocking off her breath and mind for a while.
Natsume sat across one of the benches lining the front of the restaurant. In his arms he held the most gorgeous set of bouquet flowers she had ever placed her eyes on. Its brilliant, vibrant colors sweep on the decorative plastic which contained it, demanding attraction from passerbys and common people alike. But that didn't matter much to her.
Mikan stared, not doing anything. For one second, she might have also forgotten how to breathe. All her thoughts and attention spun and compressed on one single thing: Natsume.
She stared at him as though he had come back from hell and beyond, perhaps heaven and paradise too, as her conflicting emotions put it. But she knew enough just how real he was. She knew that much even if she didn't touch him.
He sat there, turning as much heads as the bouquet of flowers he had in his arms. Even dressed in a plain navy-blue t-shirt with the white-colored meek words "I thought Denial is just a river in Egypt…", he had the image of a young Greek god, who, somehow, forgot his ancient cloths and found the humor to dress up boy-next-door style instead, if not for the purpose of attracting more heads than he already does.
And just for proof that the fates were conspiring with Mikan this particular fateful day, Natsume's head did a half turn and his sight stuck fittingly to her staring wide-eyed ones, like a neat fit in a jigsaw puzzle. For a fleeting moment, she swore she even heard the click as the puzzle piece fell into place. Magically humorous.
But before that, her reflexes or some inner drive told her to react instead of keeping a poker face.
And react dramatically, she did.
Natsume saw her in an instant, wasted no time and bolted upright in his sitting, causing the expensive looking 24-carat bouquet flowers to fall from his lap to the ground. Now the passerbys had their attention divided between the young Greek god and the helpless flowers lying on the ground, temporarily without an owner.
The scene was of much interest apparently that they all stopped to see this moment; a man too handsome to be real, seeming transfixed at something else other than his beauty, and the flowers he seemed to have abandoned on the ground, awaiting a merchant's arms to take it to its stall and sell it for a good price or just a nice place at the new flower vase at home.
Mikan, paralyzed as ever, couldn't find the strength to do something---say something like "En garde!!" and retreat for safety. That usually seemed the best of her choices.
But right now, she had something else in mind… and even if her paralysis didn't get the better of her, she would stay anyway.
Stay, face him… and fulfill her part of the deal.
This is the consequence of her running away last time, and she was determined to make up for it... she thought, remembering all the times she withdrew from everyone and everything because of a single less-than-one-hour eyeball meeting.
Silly it was to think, coming from her, who just recently wished herself a hermit and played the role to the fullest, as though punishing herself for being who she was. How reactive can her mind get, she can never begin to guess.
And… even though Natsume's face off was way too timed to be true; he appearing to look too much like he was on his way to a date, or better yet, on his way to asking for forgiveness, only crossed her mind fleetingly, like a passing scent of perfume then gone.
In the meanwhile, she had this moment to take care of.
"Mikan?" Natsume's voice. He's taking a step towards her, "Mikan Sakura?"
Again, the tone of the voice… Each of Mikan's sensory receptors analyzed and interpreted it into fragments of vague emotions, each different. But one she picked off to be concern and…gladness. Or so she thought she wanted it to.
Calming herself in that split second---for just one split second when her other self strongly forced her to flee from all the other implications in that tone: disappointment, mockery, sorrow and everything unpleasant---she decided to stay.
For her sake.
It took her all the effort to do so, though. Because staying would mean proving her recent beliefs wrong, and opening up another part of an explanation---his.
Mikan stood, her fists clenched tightly as though they can contain all her emotions in one death grip, and planted her feet firmly on the ground like she might suddenly grow wings and fly.
After one endless waiting, Natsume walked the five steps to reach an arm's length from her, and stopped.
A hollow, pressured moment.
"…M-Mikan?" Natsume breathed the words, uncertain. He truly meant it, she realized later.
She didn't trust herself to speak.
Natsume voiced it out for her, "…About last time…" an audible sigh escaped his lips, "It was not my intention to make you go, you should believe me on that." he sounded bitterly angry, but he was sincere.
That made her look up and face him fair and square.
"He sounds real enough despite his looks…." She's thinking deep to herself as she studied his talking face, "Why was I being a complete klutz that time? I never thought he could be so—well, humble for change..."
"…so make it up to you." Natsume finished, then waited for her answer.
Mikan, unfortunately, wasn't listening.
"What?" she asked dumbly.
Her answer struck him a little, as though he had asked an important question and received a dumb reply. Nevertheless, he repeated.
"I said, if you want to---"
The rest of his words were drowned by the droning noises coming from a drill in a building nearby being constructed.
"…make it up to you." He finished again. It had to be that the important parts of the message had to bitten off by the noise, she thought irritatingly.
Then somehow… Instead of asking him to repeat it again—this guy could use a break from what Mikan did to him, and these questionings weren't helping at all—she thought of a good idea.
"Know what I think?" Mikan asked, thoughtful at first, then her smile slipped to a grin, "Why don't we head to the ice cream shop over there?" she pointed to the direction of the plaza, then turned to face him, "Then… we'll talk about business." her tone ended with the vague riddle implying what had to be done.
For a moment, the young man's face shifted to change quizzically, then copied her own understanding.
"Yeah. Why not?" he gave his kind-of impish smile, "Let's do that."
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AUTHOR'S NOTES: whoa, those two are really starting to get to know each other. After all the pain Mikan went through she finally get to meet Natsume, yet again. But of what consequence does this fated meeting lead to? The stakes get high when this little bit of fact gets out in the open and someone behind Natsume's background is rearing to close in for the possible threat Mikan is capable of… and he doesn't give a damn if she was just an ordinary girl.
::By the way, Natsume is a tad bit of OOC here… (appalled) I suppose he had to turn out that way if he's going anywhere near fulfilling his role. So there.::
Please review review! For the sake of the next chapter! Thank you!
