The beginning is a little strange.... I don't get it.
Thanks to:
Najika Tsubasa-chan-Author's license, right?
-Tribal Addict--Sorry... I didn't mean to make her so cheerful. And my math does suck. If anyone else is reading this, the note Mikan left was actually five words. Hehe. Is a RISE-YOUR-EYEBROWS KIND OF ENDINGa good thing or a bad thing?
IceGirl7-Muahahaha! Toldya I was pro-Cause-Natsume-Pain! I know, sadistic right? Thanks.
YesThatsme-Craving. Nice word choice.
JuSt To RaNdOm-^-^v to you too!
--for reviewing. You are all awesome!
Je n'ai pas Gakuen Alice. For those of you not in french, it means I don't have Gakuen Alice. Yes, that's basically all I know. No, I don't know how to say "own."
Et voila!
"Your name…"
A blur of black on black on black.
"…don't have one?"
Silver.
"Can't you speak?"
Crimson…
"Are… hurt?"
Crimson staining silver, crimson soaking black, crimson flowers on the ground…
"…hungry? Tired?"
Crimson eyes…
"Come on, speak!"
Beautiful.
"Speak!"
"…N—Natsume?"
Pure black.
Mikan rubbed her head. Did that count as a nightmare? She couldn't remember half of it. There was definitely red… But no pain. No pain whatsoever. It wasn't her red. She sat up, steadying herself as she adjusted to the change.
She took a step… and fell.
"Crap!"
Her ankle was throbbing. Too much dancing, probably. Then she spied the rose on her table. What the—oh. Right. Natsume had given it to her last night. After picking it from her own garden.
Crimson eyes.
Mikan's mouth popped open. The eyes in her dream were the same color as the rose. Blood-red.
So that dream was about meeting Rena. She sighed. When was she going to get over the fact that Rena was gone?
She stood up painfully, dragging herself over to the rose. Strangely, it hadn't withered even slightly yet. If anything, it looked even deeply crimson than it had on the bush. Maybe Natsume had some sort of magical touch.
She reached out to stroke its petals, and the flower blackened and withered. She drew her fingers back before the entire thing disintegrated into ash in the vase.
If Natsume had a magic touch, she had death-on-contact. And people wondered why she sympathized with Persona.
*~*
Mikan limped towards her office. The newspaper was hung on her doorknob, just the way she liked. She grabbed it and made her way in, collapsing with relief in her chair before looking at the paper.
Nothing really interesting. Just a bunch of stupid politicians with career-killing affairs or useless bills.
Business… she would look later. Natsume's name was in there.
Arts and Leisure… Leisure? Her life? Yeah, right.
Entertainment? Idiotic beyond belief. So why were she and Hyuuga plopped on the front page?
NATSUME SEEN WITH NEW GIRL
HAS MIKAN REPLACED LUNA?
It's a well known fact that Natsume Hyuuga, twenty three year old investor extraordinaire, is one of the most wanted young men in the country. But, he's also known for switching girls fast, from two days to two months in between. Most recently, he has been seen attending a high-class event with Luna Koizumi, a renowned model, known mostly for her willingness to do anything in a photoshoot. Literally, anything. Several witnesses reported that she kissed him violently quite a few times in public, and her racy photos are scattered everywhere, throughout those hidden magazines many teenage boys have in their closets.
But last night, Natsume attended a former classmate, Tobita Yuu's party with Mikan Sakura, a star designer at also twenty three years old. She is known for her hard work and prodigious talent. Rumor has it that Mikan and Natsume used to attend the same school, the secretive Gakuen Alice, which has produced millions of geniuses over the years. No wonder these two VIPs are already at the top. A reliable source has told us that Natsume and Mikan in fact, used to date! Are they getting back together now? What caused them to break up in the first place?
Natsume's cold attitude is famous. It is now synonymous with any picture of him, but that sure doesn't put off the ladies. Rather, it seems to attract them, along with his looks. Perhaps Mikan became jealous and began acting badly, causing their split? We all know that Natsume will immediately cut it off with a woman once she gets too clingy. Maybe
Continued on page 6
Mikan snorted lightly. Who would read that junk?
"I can't believe she used to date him!" a voice carried loud and clear through the open door. Apparently, her secretary had a guest.
But her secretary was smart. "Uh, Azumi—"
"Ugh, that's disgusting," whoever it was continued.
"Azumi—"
"I can't believe she thinks she can just hang all over him like that."
Mikan rolled her eyes and sent some wind to gently slam the door. She looked back at the picture. She was NOT hanging on him. She was barely touching him! Just the usual arm-in-arm thing where—
Oh god. She's starting to sound like those idiotic girls in those idiotic mangas who prove that they're in love with some perfect guy by constantly denying it. Her life isn't like that.
For one thing, she isn't in love with Natsume. She just… Well, she isn't.
And in her life, she doesn't end up with the guy, and there isn't a happily ever after.
Because in her life, the guy doesn't love her back.
Mikan studied her sketches. At the moment, she was interested in color effects and other illusions she could create with fabric. Hm… Women want to look thin and tall nowadays. Seriously, they need to get over the photo-shopped supermodels on magazine covers. Ugh.
Light and dark… playing with shadows?
Maybe she could use some of those designs from old Europe, where they used patterns to make them look thinner. What was it again?
She opened her laptop and input the password. She had just opened up a browser when she heard a knock on the door and her secretary entered.
"Sakura-sama," she bowed, "There's group outside that wants to see you."
"Do they have an appointment?" Mikan sighed; she had forgotten her idea.
"No, but—"
"Show them out."
The secretary hesitated. "But… they are very important people."
"How important?" Mikan said absentmindedly, tapping her fingers on the keyboard.
"Um, there's a super model, a famous patissier, a scientist, and an inventor," the secretary ticked off on her fingers.
Mikan looked up. "Fine, let them come in." Didn't matter now; her idea had long since skipped away. She sighed impatiently, moving her drumming fingers onto a folder.
Sumire, Anna, Nonoko, and Hotaru walked in. Sumire, Anna, and Nonoko were obviously very excited, looking around fervently, eyes shining.
Mikan sighed, heavier now. It was so not the time for this.
"Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh!" Sumire squealed. She didn't seem to be able to push anything else out; she was so excited that she was choking.
Mikan opened her sketchbook to a new page and unconsciously began doodling, her practiced wrist and hands moving in familiar, swift motions to sketch the basic form of a slender woman's body.
Hotaru shot Sumire with her (still in development) Baka cannon.
Mikan absentmindedly added more strokes to create a strapless dress, tightly fitted around the torso, and flowing out from the hips down.
Anna and Nonoko helped Sumire up. Sumire was still too dazed to be even slightly angry.
As Mikan added the sweeping folds around the bottom, Sumire rushed up to her and grabbed the folder underneath her other hand.
"What's in here?" she said animatedly. She didn't bother for an answer, and opened it up. She gasped. "This is amazing, Mikan!"
Mikan glared as an answer, snatching it back and growling in irritation. "Don't. Touch. My. Stuff." She enunciated every word with deadly clearness, making the threat very obvious.
–except to Sumire. "Please please please," she begged, "Can I be your model? Please please please please please with a Howalon on top." She repeated the same sequence she had used at the party.
Mikan held a hand to her forehead, sighing for the third time in two minutes. She tried to calm herself. Breathe in, breathe out.
"Plea—"
"Ahhh!" she semi-screeched out of frustration. "Fine already, okay?! Fine! Geez, Permy." She flumped into her chair and put her head in her hands.
"Yay!" Sumire clapped her hands happily.
"Us too, us too!" Anna and Nonoko added brightly. "We want to model your clothes as well!"
Mikan shot them a ??? look, and they pouted.
"Whaaat? We can't try modeling for once?"
Mikan sighed—yet again—and slumped down, her head in her arms. She grunted noncommittally, and the non-twin-twins took it as assent. They began jumping and squealing together.
Hotaru had merely watched the previous proceedings impassively, but her ear twitched when the girls suddenly dragged her over and started whining, "Can Hotaru-chan model with us? It'll totally be like a—a—a reunion or something."
"It's only four people," Hotaru muttered, but her remark was ignored.
"This is so—totally—awesome!" Anna and Nonoko shrieked together, not even paying attention to Mikan's answer.
No one heard Mikan's tiny sigh. "Just get out of here…" It was halfway to a whimper, her voice laced with pain. No one saw her miniature grimace as she tensely pulled herself up.
"Reika-san will show you out," she said, gesturing towards the door. As if on cue, the secretary came in and bowed.
"But—"
"I have work," Mikan said, trying almost desperately to hide the hurt and inject some casual teasing into her tone. "Get out." She didn't want it to seem too harsh, so she smiled.
The girls pranced out, Sumire and Hotaru looking back once before the door closed. Sumire's foreheard was furrowed in a way that Koko would have gotten beaten up for, while Hotaru's mouth was tightened in worry.
Mikan didn't see, her head bent so that her friends couldn't notice the blurring tears pricking at her eyes as she clutched her stomach underneath the desk.
"I'll be going now," Reika stammered.
"Wait," Mikan blinked the liquid away and looked at her. "I'm going to be obsessively working for a few hours or so, so don't come in and don't let anyone else in until I tell you otherwise."
The secretary nodded, not seeing the redness around her employer's eyes. She knew Mikan had times when she wanted to be alone and work with no distractions.
As soon as Reika had closed the door, Mikan barely had time to telekinetically lock the door before she collapsed, shuddering. Seeing her friends had brought on a relapse.
She made a mental note to fire Shibata Azumi by the end of the day. Then she vomited blood, and the idea was erased from her mind.
This is why she had specifically requested sound-proof walls.
*grins evilly*
Wheee! Whizzing around room! Muahahahhahhahaha! Whoops double h in there. ...Oh well! Wheeee!
Sugar high, sugar high, sugar high...
Oh. Hehehe. Hi. Didn't see you there.
Um...yeah. Review?
(Yes, I am actually on a sugar high.)
Patissier isn't actually a word. Just putting that out there.
Panda!