A/N: Long-awaited update!
P.S - there was one plot hole I had to get rid of - can anyone guess what it was?
Disclaimer: I don't own Gakuen Alice.
Vermilion Border
- Chapter 2 -
x
Sakura Mikan awoke with less grace than usual - which was a feat in itself, considering she usually began her mornings nothing short of slob-like.
"Ugh..." she groaned when the faint smell of booze hit her. She squeezed her eyes shut and placed a hand on her aching forehead.
Wait, alcohol?
"What the?" she began to panic when she detected the remnants of what tasted like champagne in her mouth.
Champagne?
She sat upright and widened her eyes. Firstly, Sakura Mikan never drank. Secondly, Sakura Mikan never went anywhere that would require her to drink. Thirdly, Sakura Mikan never spent money on beer (let alone expensive champagne) and her pitfall of debt meant it was even more implausible that she'd go spend money on ridiculously-priced bottles of champagne.
WHAT! D-did someone drug me? Did I get drunk at a bar? What happened? I swear to God, if someone took advantage of an innocent girl like me-
She suddenly caught gaze of her makeup-smeared face and flashy outfit staring back at her in the mirror.
She blinked a few times at her unusual reflection - almost wondering if some guy got her so drunk she couldn't even remember him buying nice clothes for her - before she groaned loudly and flopped back onto her pillow.
Ah, yes, how could she forget? She was a hostess now.
Whilst her mood slightly dampened upon realising that the coming mornings of the next month would be ridden with vague hangovers, nothing could break her spirits of happiness when she pictured the large paycheck bouncing gleefully into her suffering bank account.
She glanced at her clock and realised she still had over an hour to shower, dress, and eat before her job as a barista began at 8am. She paused for a moment and wondered whether she could call Misaki and ask whether she wanted to meet her at the bar tonight and give her clothes back to her, but then decided it was too early and that she should leave it until later.
She hopped out of bed and walked into the small bathroom in her tiny apartment. Peeling the tight dress off her body carefully (Mikan couldn't afford a designer dress bill on top of her debt), she clambered into the shower and managed as best she could to rinse out the smell of alcohol from her skin and hair.
Last night was alright, I guess.
Picturing the memory of drinking with the other hostesses, a little smile came to her lips. The girls were friendly, welcoming, and pretty cute, too. It was a very relaxed job in which she wasn't constantly on her feet like her barista and waitressing jobs, which meant that despite working late hours, she didn't really have to do much.
She climbed out of the shower after a few minutes of rinsing and picked up the folded dress from the bathroom counter and placed it into the washing machine.
She quickly ran to her bedroom once again and pulled out her standard barista uniform of black pants, a black shirt, and some black shoes.
Ring ring! Ring ring!
Glancing round with a shoe in her hand, she couldn't pinpoint where her phone was.
Ring Ring!
''Ugh,'' she sighed as the rings grew sharper, ''where the hell is my phone?''
Rummaging through the onslaught of clothes on her bed and bags scattered around her room, she belly-flopped onto the matress and poked her head over the side to search underneath her bed.
''Aha! There you are!'' she sighed in relief when she saw her little Nokia (yes, she had a brick Nokia) phone blaring back at her. Grabbing it and flipping it open, she tumbled back onto her backside and breathed into the phone breathlessly. ''Hello?''
''What took you so long to answer and why are you breathless, baka?''
Mikan rolled her eyes. ''Good morning to you too, best friend. I couldn't find my phone.''
''Typical,'' she heard Hotaru mumble down the line and envisioned a Hotaru-eyeroll to accompany it.
''So, what's up?''
''Just telling you that I'm going to be at the cafe in about two hours for the meeting.''
''Okay, got it.''
''So don't try to make conversation with us since it's an important meeting. You will embarrass me.''
This time, it was Mikan's turn to roll her eyes at her best friend's behaviour. ''Okay, okay, Imai-sama, I understand. Is that all?''
''Yes. See you then.''
Mikan giggled and flipped her phone shut, giddy at the thought of seeing Hotaru in her shift today. Albeit the cafe staff being quite nice to her and the workload being relatively manageable, having Hotaru's presence in the room would make her shift go a whole lot quicker.
Quickly scrambling to her feet, she padded into the kitchen and grabbed a tin of tomato soup from the cupboard.
''Let's see...'' she murmured when she put the soup into a bowl and placed it into a microwave. ''I will earn 8000 yen today at the cafe, then 3000 yen at the resturant, then 30,000 yen at the hostess bar. That means...'' she calculated slowly in her head when she removed the bowl from the microwave and set it down onto the table, ''that means...I will earn 41,000 yen today.''
She childishly grinned to herself and dug into her soup happily.
That means keep this up for just over a week, Mikan, and you're clear of the monthly minimum mark!
She squealed and hastily finished her soup in a few rapid spoonfuls. Placing the bowl in the sink, she shrugged on her coat and scarf and made a dash for it out the door.
The air outside was cold, and she gripped her scarf tighter to her small body. She didn't mind the cold much - it gave her an excuse to wear cute winter clothes.
''Ah, so pink and pretty...'' she giggled as she stared down at the mass of bubblegum pink beneath her chin. ''I can buy other cute colours soon!''
She wandered through the small street of shops, following her usual journey to the bus stop for work, albeit at a much slower pace than she was used to as she was too busy fawning over all the cute items in shop windows now that she knew she'd have some money left over to treat herself.
Gone are the days where I can't buy chocolate! she giggled as she walked up to the window of a chocolate shop and peered inside at the pristine truffles.
Did somebody say 'frilly dress'? she peered into the boutique and gasped at the long lines of intricate dresses.
And helllllooooo Howalons!
She pressed her hand up against the howalon store, eyes glued to the small box of expensive howalons. The only time she'd had them was when Hotaru bought them for her birthday the year before, but they were too expensive - just a small box alone cost 100,000 yen.
''Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves...'' she muttered dejectedly to herself as she tore her gaze from the creamy sweets. One day, Sakura Mikan would be able to buy as much howalon as she pleased - but today was not that day, and she bet that that day would probably never come.
She shrugged sadly, trying to rid of the image of her jumping in a big bowl of howalons, and then suddenly remembered an advantage she had at her waitressing job - her manager let her take home one piece of food (if there were any leftover) home with her after work.
''Ah! Maybe I can take home a piece of cake today to make myself feel better,'' she giggled and glanced at her wristwatch to see how much time she had left before her shift started.
She blinked at the hands on the face for a few moments before gasping and almost immediately breaking into a sprint - much to the surprise of passersby..
''Holy crap! I'm so late!''
She ran and ran and ran, almost tripping over when she lost her footing on the pavement and bumping into the odd child here and there, and eventually made it to the bus stop which, thankfully, still had her bus waiting patiently there.
''Ah, excuse me,'' she huffed as she made her way past the long line of people waiting to catch a different bus. ''Sorry, I-''
She found herself bumping into an old man a little too hard and caused him to drop his newspaper to the floor.
''Oh!'' she gasped and quickly looked at the old man. ''Are you alright? I'm sorry!''
''It's okay, child,'' he said with a wave of his hand.
''Here, I'll pick it up for you.''
Mikan bent down and quickly retrieved the fallen item.
''Here you go!'' she smiled as she reached her arm out. As she passed it over, she caught sight of the front page and found her eyes glued to the headline.
HYUUGA SCANDAL? DAUGHTER OF SHODA ARTWORKS HEARTBROKEN.
Accompanying the headline was a photo of a young man which red eyes and a menacing glare. Mikan couldn't help shuddering in fright. But there was something strange about that man...
''Miss, are you alright? The bus is leaving soon,'' the old man pointed behind her.
She gasped and turned around to find the last customer paying their bus fare, the driver's hand poised on the button to shut the doors.
''Oh, uh, thank you,'' she quickly said and spun around, hopping onto the bus just moments before the doors shut. She quickly held out her bus pass and made her way over to an empty seat, mind filled with thoughts of chocolate, cakes, and truck-loads of howalons.
He sighed a pressed a hand to his nose bridge.
"So you're telling me that you had an argument with Ando over what film you were going to see, and then you ran away in anger?"
Aoi sniffled. "Yes."
"And the bruises on your arms are from when you fell over on the way out?"
"Yes."
Natsume Hyuuga sighed and rolled his eyes in frustration. "What the hell were you thinking, Aoi? Running away like that and hurting yourself?"
"I-I..." she cried into her pyjama sleeve, "I'm sorry!"
It was barely seven in the morning when an annoyed Natsume Hyuuga demanded a meeting with his little sister, whom he had rescued from the freezing cold on the outskirts of Tokyo last night sporting multiple bruises on her arms, downstairs in the living room. At first she had obediently followed, but burst into tears when she saw the anger in his face.
"Aoi. This is the third time this month I've had to pick you up after your fights with your boyfriend."
"I know," she murmured quietly.
"They are the most pointless arguments. The first time, you ran away because he took you to a restaurant you didn't like. The second time, it was because he refused to buy you more cake. Now this? This is getting ridiculous, Aoi."
"Look," she mumbled, "I-I...I just...just have a bad temper, okay? I don't mean to trouble you but..."
Natsume took one look at his crying sister and released a pent-up sigh. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he rubbed her neck and wiped a tear from her eye.
"Just promise me you'll sort your temper out. I can't keep picking you up like this."
"I-I will..."
"Good."
She nodded eagerly and grabbed the box of tissues from the nearby table.
Natsume watched as his little sister bowed and proceeded to bound up the stairs hastily, little sniffles disappearing with the beat of her footsteps. He had been worried sick last night as he waited anxiously in the taxi, but since Aoi had been repeatedly calling him in these sort of situations, he had let his mind wander onto other matters.
Such as when he was next going to a bar to pick up a random woman.
The ringing of his phone interrupted him from his thoughts. He grabbed the ringing device from the table top and flipped it open immediately, expecting Ruka to be calling about the business meeting they had later on that morning.
''Natsume Hyuuga speaking.''
''Natsume!'' the voice shouted from the other end of the phone.
Natsume took a deep breath in and exhaled. ''Hello, father.''
''Natsume! What the hell have you done?''
He blanked for a few moments, wondering what the hell his dad was on about, before clearing his throat and sliding back into the sofa. ''I don't know what you're talking about.''
''It's all over the headlines! Shoda's daughter said you two have been secretly dating for the last two years and you broke up with her. Is this true, Natsume?''
Natsume almost spluttered in shock and had to refrain himself from swearing out loud on the phone to his dad.
Where the hell had Sumire got that story from?
''What?''
Natsume knew Sumire was a little insane, but he had no idea the lengths she would go to just to get his attention.
''This is ruining the Hyuuga name. I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour!''
''It-It's not true,'' Natsume spat into the phone, disgusted at the thought of him entering any sort of relationship with Shoda's spoilt daughter, ''She's crazy.''
''Crazy or not, you need to fix this.''
Natsume exhaled angrily. ''I don't want anything to do with that insane, annoying, ugly-''
''Natsume,'' his father called sternly down the phone. ''I've already invited Tsubasa over from Osaka to visit the company today. We need an agreement with Shoda Artworks and, by the looks of things now, it seems highly unlikely that you will sort things out. Tsubasa has links to the Sugimura Textiles Company over in Osaka, and I may well give the company to him if you are unable to reach an agreement with the Shodas.''
And with that, the line went dead, leaving Natsume Hyuuga almost at his breaking point.
"Ugh..." he frowned. "Could this day get any shittier..."
Apparently, yes.
Knock knock knock!
"Yoohoo~! Natsume! It's Ruka, let me in!"
Ah, of course - how could he forget.
Natsume heaved himself off the sofa and took his time ambling slowly towards the door (which presented a murky and somewhat terrifyingly happy Ruka behind the stained glass) and opened it with a big death stare.
"Why, Natsume, don't you look happy to see your best friend," the blonde man chuckled with a grin.
Natsume glared down at his friend's smart business suit then wearily eyed his own ensemble - a navy blue dressing gown and brown slippers.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain headline, would it?" Ruka raised a brow and held back a smirk.
"Shut up," Natsume seethed and walked backwards to let Ruka into the hallway.
"I mean, I knew Sumire always had a thing for you - the way she was staring at you at that work party last year we terrifying. Not to mention that other time when she licked your-"
"Enough!" Natsume hissed and abruptly walked into the kitchen to fix himself a drink.
"Fine, fine," Ruka teased, but then dropped his voice to a more serious tone. "But honestly, I can't believe she made up a story this crazy. I just...can't believe she did it."
''Fucking hell,'' he swore under his breath. He was not in the mood to leave the house today, let alone go to a business meeting with Ruka.
''Don't worry, the story will die down in a few days. You know what the media is like. Now, get ready because we are leaving in 5 minutes.''
Natsume remained silent and rooted to the spot.
''If you don't hurry up, I'll call Sumire and-''
''Fine. I'm going.''
Ruka smiled. ''I'll wait in the car.''
The cafe was fairly quiet that particular morning, which let Mikan have a deep contemplation session over what she was going to wear tonight.
She didn't own many clothes in the first place, let alone own skimpy dresses, mini-skirts, make-up, stilettos, and all that nonsense. No, what she owned was pretty much kiddish clothing with depictions of smiling animals on them. The closest thing she even had to what she borrowed last night from Misaki was a dress a friend of hers from uni had left at her place by accident and then never went back to collect (Mikan didn't blame her, it was pretty hideous) - a pink knee-length dress that was made out of some weird tweed fabric.
Well, it would have to do. She didn't have to money to go splurging on new clothes just quite yet, although she could probably think about it when her monthly minimum would be paid off in a week or so.
She was still stuck in her daydream when the rustle of someone's coat caught her attention.
''Oh, uh, hello!" she quickly said when she saw a young man in a long brown coat approach the counter. "What can I get you?"
"A caramel latte to go, please."
Mikan couldn't help but to stare at the man in front of her. He looked young, probably only a few years older than her, but he was kind of cute and, from the look of his cashmere coat-gloves-scarf ensemble, he appeared to be pretty rich. She lowered her gaze to his wallet that was perched upon the counter.
Louis Vuitton...
''Miss, are you alright?''
Mikan blinked in confusion and glanced up slowly at the male voice.
Oh great, he probably thinks I'm a psycho now.
"Ah, um, yes! Yes. Caramel latte, right?"
He flashed her a small smile in return. "That's right, miss."
She quickly nodded and moved over towards the coffee equipment at the side of the counter. Methodically pressing the right buttons and pulling the right levers, she grabbed a cup and filled it to the brim with the warm liquid.
Pressing the plastic lid in place, she turned to give it to the cute boy.
"Here you-"
It appeared that she had not securely put the lid in place, for a small wave of brown liquid toppled out and straight onto the man's cashmere sleeve.
She gasped and stared wide-eyed at the damage.
Oh, FUCK.
She began to breathe unevenly as it dawned at her that he could well and truly sue every penny (what she had, anyway) out of her if he wanted to.
''Look, I'm so sorry,'' she blurted out, ''I really, really-''
''Relax, relax, it's fine,'' he chuckled, grabbing a tissue and wiping the droplets off the wool. ''Don't worry about it.''
Mikan was at a loss for words by his extreme nonchalance.
''R-really?''
''Yep. Oh, and thanks for the latte," he paused to glance down at her name tag, "Mikan-chan."
Mikan stood dazed as he walked off, his silhouette endlessly elegant against those he walked amongst in the cafe.
"There goes an impossibly cute and polite guy I'll never see again," she muttered as she wiped the drops of the latte she had previously spilt from the counter. She wanted to grimace at the thought of his sleeve stained with ugly brown droplets, but instead smiled when she remembered how he acknowledged her name.
Slight hangover aside, nothing could break Mikan's happy mood - she didn't get fired from her job, a cute boy said her name, and her best friend was about to come into the cafe at any moment.
''I wonder when Hotaru is going to come...'' she mumbled as she cradled her chin in her hand on the coffee counter.
The door of the cafe suddenly chimed open and a blur of navy hair filled the entrance.
Mikan gasped in delight when she saw her best friend's familiar stoic expression come into view.
"HOTA-"
''Don't try to make conversation with us. You'll embarrass me.''
Mikan figured screaming at Hotaru wasn't really the best way to start her meeting. She craned her neck over to get a better look at Hotaru's business clients.
Behind Hotaru were two men clad in business suits and ties. One with honey blonde hair with an innocent expression, the other was blocked by the door.
Mikan creased her brow. She subtly pressed herself forwards onto the counter to better listen to their conversation.
''So, Nogi-san, this is the café I was talking about.''
Mikan swelled with pride upon the blonde man looking round and nodding at the vintage decor and leather sofas.
''It reminds me of the cafés in France,'' he replied with a small smile.
''Ah, yes. Your mother is French if I remember correctly, isn't she, Nogi-san?''
''Yes, she is. Well remembered, Hotaru-san.''
Mikan raised a brow as Ruka and Hotaru smiled at each other, completely oblivious to the third party standing just next to them.
''Hotaru seems to be awfully friendly with that blonde man...'' Mikan chuckled to herself. Picking up a cloth, she started wiping the counter. When she looked up again, she saw that this time Hotaru was beginning to walk over towards her whilst the other two members of the party set down their bags at a nearby table.
Upon approaching, Hotaru gave Mikan a small smile. ''Hi.''
''Hotaru!'' Mikan chirped. ''You seemed awfully friendly with that blonde man.''
''Oh, Ruka?''
Mikan giggled. ''Ru~ka.''
''Well, yes. Don't you remember him? Ruka from high school.''
''High school?''
''Yes,'' Hotaru said slowly, ''from high school. He transferred over for a bit.''
Mikan thought for a moment.
''And he's also here with Na-''
''Ah, Ruka!'' Mikan suddenly said. ''I remember! Of course, the blonde boy!''
Hotaru sighed at her friend's cheerfulness. ''Yes.''
''Anyways,'' Mikan said, calming down, ''what can I get you?''
''Two cappuccinos and one dark coffee.''
''How dark would you like it?'' Mikan asked, pushing some buttons into the cash register.
Hotaru thought for a moment before replying, ''As dark as possible.''
Mikan raised an eyebrow and nodded. ''Alright.''
Hotaru handed over a note and put her purse back into her bag. ''Thanks.''
''I'll bring them over in a bit,'' Mikan said and began to ready the taps and equipment.
How coincidental that Hotaru would be consulting with a former high school partner! Mikan vaguely remembered that Ruka was an intelligent boy (although the fact that he had a crazy fanclub sort of overruled that memory) and she wasn't surprised he was now working in such a high-end job (I mean, anyone working with Hotaru should count themselves lucky).
Pouring the coffee in separate cups, Mikan carefully picked the tray up and squeezed her way past the counter and out into the sitting area.
Walking over to the table where Hotaru and Ruka were sitting, she froze - the third member of the party, whom she still had not seen up until now, was staring straight at her. Well, more like glaring at her as if he wanted to kill her.
The hairs on Mikan's arm instantaneously pricked up.
No. Fucking. Way.
''Mikan?'' Hotaru called.
Staring right back at her was a pair of ruby eyes and once again she was a shaking mass of teenage self-doubt. She thought she'd seen the last of him when he transferred away almost ten years ago.
''Oh, um...'' Mikan quickly said and continued walking forwards, albeit in a significantly more wobbly manner.
Oh, kami.
She finally approached the table and almost dropped the tray onto the table.
Even though it had been years since she last saw him, she still hated him. No one should have to start university with the idea that they only looked good from the left side because 'your right side is too fucking ugly' sort-of-thing.
''H-here you go,'' she mumbled, preparing to turn away.
''Hey, Mikan! Its been a while!''
She turned upon the smooth voice and found Ruka smiling at her, hand extended. She stared at it as if it was a foreign object and slowly shook it.
''You remember me, right? And Natsume, too?'' he motioned towards his left.
Natsume. Of course. Natsume-fucking-Hyuuga - the sole reason why she sometimes still cried about her nose.
She winced upon the name and forced a smile.
''S-sure.'' She turned to Natsume. ''Heyyy, Natsume.''
Play it cool. Play it cool. Pretend you don't still cry about him calling you ugly back in what, ninth grade?
She saw his mouth begin to open.
''Did you have fun...last night?'' he asked with a devilish smirk.
...sorry, what?
That was NOT what she'd been expecting.
Ruka and Hotaru creased their brows and turned to Mikan, who was equally as confused.
Last night? But...she was at the hostess bar last night, right? I mean, she couldn't remember much other than blurs of the entire evening, but she was definitely there.
But how come he knew this?
''I remember you suggesting I change my profession?'' he probed further, clearly amused at her confusion.
What the hell is this lunatic banging on about?
She began to sweat under his glare and tried desperately to think of the night before.
Natsume...
Changing profession...
Hostess club...
...
Natsume...changing profession...hostess club...
...
Natsume changing profession hostess club...
...
...
Was he at the club? Well, he must've been because he's saying we spoke. Surely I'd remember if we spoke?
She nervously took a step forward and leaned down towards him, whispering ever so gently:
"Did I tell you to become a hostess?"
Natsume would've choked on his drink if he had been drinking it that very moment.
"What?" he hissed quietly. "No!"
"No?'' she frowned. ''Then maybe a lap dancer?"
''God, woman,'' he glared at her, ''no!''
"Ooh, then maybe a prostit-"
"Uh, are you two okay?" Ruka called from behind Mikan.
''Oh, yes!'' Mikan quickly chipped in upon seeing the concerned Ruka (and devilishly intruiged Hotaru) peering at them.
''You,'' Natsume grunted and yanked her arm down so she was facing him once more, ''told me to join the circus.''
Mikan raised a brow. ''The circus?''
''Yes.''
''O-okay...why the circus? Are you good at juggling?"
''That's where contortionists work, no?'' he taunted with an evil smirk.
Think, Mikan, think!
She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to go through the events of last night - or at least what she could remember. She remembered drinking... someone appreciated her love for Sailor Moon...then vaguely something about a toilet conversation with someone...then she went to McDonald's at 5am to cry about her life! Oh, wait, no - that was last week.
She shook her head.
Okay, okay, so - drinking, toilet conversation, presumably something made me stay in the hallway of the toilet because the last thing I remember is talking to a guy and-
It took no more than two seconds for sudden flashbacks of last night, post-drinking, to play themselves out in her head.
"You know, your head is so far up your own arse, I'm surprised you're not a world-class contortionist, Natsume-kun."
Oh.
No, fucking, way.
Was this some sort of joke? Did someone set her up for this? If she was being pranked right now, then-
"Mikan?" she heard Hotaru call. ''Mikan.''
''Dude, what are you on about? Don't tell me you're involved with Mikan, too. You have enough trouble with women in the tabloids already.''
Oh my god.
She thought back to the newspaper at the bus stop.
Don't tell me this was the same Natsume from the papers this morning.
What was he, like, some celebrity or something?
Mikan snapped out of her thoughts and grabbed Hotaru's hand.
''Mikan, what-''
She pulled Hotaru away from the table (and away from Natsume's intimidating stare) and ruffled her fringe with her hands in frustration.
"What...what...'' she huffed as she tried to compose herself, ''what are they doing here?" she hissed once again and pointed at the two men looking at them from the table on the corner.
''The business meeting that I told you about yesterday,'' Hotaru said slowly. ''Also, what did Natsume-''
"Are you out of your mind?!"
Hotaru raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
''Why did you bring them here! You know I can't stand that man!''
"Mikan, if you're referring to Natsume bullying you then that was almost ten years ago."
"Why...why...why can't you move your meeting next door? They do really good sandwiches!"
Hotaru rolled her eyes. "This is business for your shop, baka. That's the reason I chose this place."
"But, but," the brunette flailed her arms, torn between feeling blessed to be friends with Hotaru and wanting to scream at her for her stubbornness.
The latter won.
"You're with that stupid Natsume, though!"
"Yeah," Hotaru looked at Mikan as if she had lost it. "And Ruka, too. You remember Ruka, right?"
Mikan gaped at her. "But, Hotaru!" she whined, "You know I hate him!"
''Who, Ruka?''
''No!'' she glared at her friend and lowered her voice. ''Natsume!''
Hotaru rolled her eyes and slapped Mikan on the arm.
"Owwww! Hota-"
Hotaru folded her arms and smirked at her. ''Also, I want to know what he meant by 'last night'.''
Mikan's winging came to an abrupt stop and she studied her best friend's suggestive smile.
''Oh, gross! It is NOT what you're thinking at all!''
Whilst Natsume was undeniably attractive (she recalled daydreaming about him back in high school when the had classes together but, hey, that's totally irrelevant), she would definitely NOT want to be linked to a man like him, especially after seeing his name on those scandals this morning.
''Oh yeah?'' Hotaru scoffed. ''Then what is it?''
"Ugh, it was more like bumping into his stupid ass in that hos-"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted it. She clasped a hand over her lips. She had told Hotaru way too much.
Hotaru blinked. "In that what?"
Mikan froze. Hotaru couldn't find out. If she knew, she would definitely lend her money that she couldn't pay back.
''Well?''
"Hos...hos...uh, hos..."
"Say 'hos' again and I will slap you across the face."
What begins with 'hos'? Hmmm...hospital? No, that's pronounced differently. Hostess? Oh, wait - that's what I can't tell her! Hos...hos...'hos' sounds like 'hoes', heheheheh-
"Well?"
"We met...at a a hosing club!"
It was an answer neither was expecting - especially the latter. Mikan and Hotaru looked at each other, stunned.
"Hosing...club?" Hotaru asked with a perplexed expression. "You went to...a hosing club?"
"Yeah. It's where, uh, you go learn about how to...hose your garden correctly."
Did she actually just tell Hotaru that she and her potential future business partner were avid members of the gardening scene in Tokyo?
"Oh, right," Hotaru replied. "Never expected Natsume to be that sort of guy."
Yes, she totally did.
"I didn't even know they had those," Hotaru continued.
Mikan slapped her forehead. "Funny, neither did I."
Hotaru then raised a brow elegantly. "I didn't know you were into gardening, considering you don't even have a garden."
Crap, Mikan!
Mikan attempted a big smile but her lips ended up wobbling uneasily into a half-hearted curve. "I love the gardening channels on TV, you see. So, so much. I love my, uh, turnips, potatoes, cabbages and..." she motioned her hands in the air to think of something, "...grass."
Hotaru looked at Mikan with an awkward stare and pulled her purse out of her bag. "Whatever, I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure he doesn't mind. After all, gardening pals gotta stick together, right?"
"No, Hotaru!" Mikan hissed.
Mikan watched as her best friend walked off into the other side of the room and sit down with Ruka and Natsume, obviously apologizing for her erratic behaviour. Mikan used this time to study the man who had been mocking her only minutes before.
He looked just as good as he did last night in the dim lighting of the bar, only this time his noble features were in full view he exerted an impossibly professional aura. Mikan's expression softened and her movements stilled for a moment. He wore an expensive-looking business suit (which probably cost more than her entire wardrobe), held a perfectly poised facial expression, possessed ridiculously good-looking-
Stop it, Mikan!
His gaze averted to her general direction and she whipped round and walked stiffly to the counter, where her manager was looking at her with a perplex only thing stopping her from running out of the store screaming "WHY ME?" and never stepping foot back into Tokyo again was the fact she needed the dollar for her debt and...yeah, just the debt.
Ugh, stupid debt.
''Are you okay, Mikan? I saw you talking with Hotaru and you looked quite...animated.''
Her manager, a small and kind old man called Mr. Sasada, had become accquainted with Hotaru after her frequent visits to the café and even went out of his way to chat with the navy-haired woman.
Mikan took one look at him and put her face in her hands.
''Oh, Mr. Sasada! I-''
She wanted to pour her heart out to him and tell him 'Look, I am literally one inch away from killing myself in your shop right now,' but she couldn't.
''I-I'm fine,'' she smiled. ''Very happy. Very fine. Very okay.''
''Mikan, child,'' he said as he walked past her, a pen and some paper with scribbles on in his hands, ''it's okay to not be alright.''
And with that touch of sentimental kindness on her already-breaking heart, Mikan rushedly slapped her hand over her eyes and bit back the fresh slaughter of tears.
''Yo, Natsume - what the hell was that all about?'' Ruka asked immediately when the girls were out of earshot.
Natsume shrugged. ''I don't think you'd believe me if I told you.''
Ruka stared at him. ''What do you mean?''
He shrugged. ''It's not my place to tell.''
''Well...'' Ruka said slowly, intrigue laced in his expression, ''can you tell me anything at all?''
Natsume paused for a moment, deciding to choose his words carefully.
''This is unlike you, man.'' Ruka said with a raised brow.
''What is?''
''Why can't you just tell me? You never have problems telling me things about women.''
''I know.'' Natsume said.
''So why can't you tell me about Mikan?''
Natsume was pretty certain if he told Ruka, Ruka would then tell Hotaru (his future business partner), and the whole thing would kick off. He just didn't have the energy.
Natsume clicked his tongue. ''Like I said, it's not my place to tell.''
''You know,'' Ruka started, ''you treated Mikan like shit in high school.''
Natsume looked at him indifferently.
''You started picking on her because she tried making friends with you, right?''
''I picked on her because she was annoying.''
Ruka rolled his eyes. ''Yes, but you thought she was annoying because she tried so hard to make friends with you, right?''
Natsume didn't say anything.
''You gave her so much shit, Natsume.''
''Good. She was annoying.''
''But, you'd also give shit to anyone else who tried to pick on her.''
Natsume raised a brow. ''Your point?''
Ruka chuckled. ''Oh, nothing. Just seemed to me that you were...protective?''
''Whatever.''
''And maybe you're still protecting her now?'' Ruka giggled and took a sip of his drink.
Natsume scowled at him and reached for his own drink, looking back at Hotaru and Mikan as he did so. Hotaru was turning away with an almost-laughing expression on her face whilst Mikan looked as though she was about to pass out. Her face was extremely white and her hands gripped the side of a table for support. It was very similar to the look she gave him last night.
''Sorry about Sakura,'' Hotaru said once she sat down. ''She's having an off-day.''
''It's alright, Imai-san. We all know what she was like in high school,'' Ruka laughed and began to take out his paperwork.
''She's not changed one bit,'' Hotaru rolled her eyes, adjusting her own blazer.
Natsume glanced ever so slightly at Mikan. The coffee shop was mostly empty and his eyes had to dart around for a few seconds before he could locate her small frame contrastly neatly against the white walls. She was half-hiding behind the counter, a hand over her eyes in effort to hide the fact that she was crying. Her teeth were digging into her bottom lip, almost ripping the skin as she tried not to tremble any further.
''She's not changed one bit.''
Natsume watched for a few beats more before turning back to Hotaru and Ruka.
After all, it was none of his business.
Mikan watched as big-meanie-man (aka Natsume Hyuuga), Ruka, and her best friend quietly left the now-busy cafe, Hotaru giving her a nonchalant wave before exiting the building. Mikan glared at the back of Natsume's head and huffed.
''I hate him...'' she grumbled.
''What's that, Mikan?''
She turned to find Mr. Sasada peering at her in concern through a box of empty coffee cups.
''Yeah, I'm fine,'' she said. ''I think.''
''Who was that you said you hated, dear?''
She rolled her eyes. ''Just this stupid guy.''
''Ah,'' he smiled, walking off, ''a lover's quarrel?''
Her eyes widened in horror and she almost spat out the contents of her breakfast.
''No, wait, I-''
''You guys will make up soon,'' Mr. Sasada said with a wave and closed the door to his office, leaving Mikan stunned.
''I...'' she began, ''I...he means nothing to me!''
She grumbled some more about her woes of life, her stupid luck, and just how much Kami-sama hated her before she glanced at the clock and realised her shift was going to finish in one minute - 8pm, which would give her just under an hour before her shift at Love Divine started.
She hurriedly took off her apron and hung it on the rack in the back of the shop. Quickly making her way to the stockroom (and almost falling over air like the klutz she was), she grabbed her things and shrugged her coat on. Normally, she'd say bye to Mr. Sasada, followed by a long cry about how her life 'was over before it even began', but she realised that if she wanted to look as good as she did last night, she'd have to at least sacrifice half an hour to do her makeup - and that's not including the time spent crying over why the fake eyelashes weren't sticking to her eyes.
''Oh, Mikan. Hi.''
Mikan looked up from buttoning her coat and found the girl from the next shift, Ami, smiling at her.
''Oh, hey, Ami. How are you?''
''Good thanks. You?''
''Fine. You look like you're in a rush to get to somewhere.''
''Oh, um...'' Mikan stopped frantically trying to button up her coat and laughed. ''I've...uh...got...''
''Oooh,'' Ami leaned in, ''you're not late for a date, are you?''
Mikan cocked a brow in confusion. ''A date? Oh, no.''
''Then where are you going?''
''I'm going to...''Mikan stopped herself. She almost let it slip out, again. ''Oh! I mean, yes! A date. I am going to a date. Heh.''
''Poor guy, is he really that unimportant?'' Ami giggled.
Mikan shook her head vehemently. ''No, no. I love...'' she looked around and spotted a logo on top of a coat. ''Kento-kun. Yes. I love him.''
''What?'' Ami questioned. ''Yesterday you said you were still single.''
Well done, Mikan. Once again you managed to make up a crazy lie that you'll have to keep up. You are so smart.
''I met him yesterday and now I love him.''
Ami took a step away from Mikan and nodded. ''Alright, then.''
''Well then, see ya!'' Mikan said and made a dash for the door.
''Have fun with...what's his name?'' Ami called.
''Uh, well, it's not important!'' Mikan replied uneasily.
''Oh, okay. Have fun!''
Mikan inwardly cringed at herself and exited the building, embarrassment washing over her as she crossed the road to get to the bus stop.
You are so stupid, Mikan. But that's not anything new.
She sat at the bus stop for a few minutes, watching the trees sway in the night breeze, before the bus pulled up and she eagerly got on. She plopped down at the back of the bus.
She was going to do her makeup as soon as she got in and-
''Wah...''
She slowly turned to the source of what sounded like crying and saw a young girl curled up in the seat near the window oppsite.
''Wah...''
''Are you okay?'' Mikan gently asked the girl.
The girl seemed to be a little surprised at Mikan's question and quickly wiped her tears.
''Y-yes.''
Mikan scuttled closer, her motherly instincts taking over. She was wearing nice clothes (designer, Mikan figured) and carried a Louis Vuitton bag.
What on earth was a young girl like this doing here on a bus crying?
''Where are you going now?'' Mikan asked once again, her stone still gentle.
''I-I don't know. I can't go home right now because Onii-san will be a-angry.''
The girl's shoulders sunk even lower.
''Do you have anywhere else you could go? An uncle or aunt's place, perhaps?''
''N-no. They live too far away.''
She couldn't let this girl wander aimlessly by herself. She needed to make sure she was going to be safe.
''What about friends? Do you have friends you could contact?''
''I lost my phone.''
Mikan sighed. ''Well, how about you come back to my place? I am going out in a bit, but you are welcome to stay in my apartment and help yourself to the food in the fridge.''
The girl waited a few seconds - no doubt weighing out whether or not Mikan looked like a serial killer, but after concluding that Mikan was nothing of the sort, she nodded.
''Okay.''
The rest of the bus journey to Mikan's place was quiet. When it got to her stop, she gently took the girl's hand and got off the bus.
''My name is A-Aoi,'' she said when they began walking through the dimly-lit streets. ''I didn't actually lose my phone, I just didn't want to check it because I knew onii-san would be calling at texting me.''
Mikan turned and smiled, ''My name is Sakura Mikan. How come you don't want to contact your onii-san? Surely it'd make sense to let him know you were safe. What if he reports you as a missing person?''
Aoi looked down and stared at the pavement.
''Make sure you text him when we arrive at my apartment, okay? He must be worried sick about you.''
''Okay.''
Mikan took her key out of her bag and unlocked the door.
''And here is my apartment. It's quite small, I know, but it's quite homely.''
Aoi gazed round in awe and sat down on the sofa. ''It's very cosy.''
''Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge, I just need to get ready to go out tonight,'' Mikan said and handed the girl a chocolate bar from the kitchen drawer.
Aoi took it and took unwrapped it quickly.
''There's more chocolate in the second cupboard if you want any more. There's also biscuits in the third drawer down under the cooker.''
''Where are you going?'' she asked through a mouthful of chocolate.
''Oh,'' Mikan waved her hand in dismissal, ''just going out. Meeting some friends. I'm not the best with makeup so I've got to spend a long time on it.''
Aoi's eyes brightened at the word 'makeup'.
''I'm good at makeup, I can do it for you.''
Mikan thought for a moment - she couldn't really be arsed doing her own makeup and she would probably fuck it up anyway.
''I did my friend's makeup for prom and that turned out really good.'' Aoi said proudly, taking another bite of chocolate.
''Yeah, sure.''
''Great!'' the young girl said happily. ''First of all, I need to know what you're wearing.''
Mikan blinked. ''What I'm wearing?''
''Yeah.''
Mikan looked down at her barista uniform. ''This is what I'm wearing.''
''No,'' Aoi giggled, ''what you're wearing tonight. Unless,'' her face suddenly turned to disgust, ''you're wearing that tonight. No offence.''
''Oh, right,'' Mikan laughed, ''uh, I don't actually know.''
Aoi shook her head in astonishment. ''Most girls would have decided weeks in advance!''
Mikan shrugged. ''I don't have many clothes anyway. I'll just pick something out now.''
''Come on, show me your wardrobe. I can help you choose something.''
Mikan nodded and led Aoi down the narrow hallway.
''This is my room.''
Mikan pushed open her door to reveal a tiny room with barely any furniture in it. There was one cheap-looking bed at one end of the room and a brown wardrobe at the other.
Aoi's eyes widened.
''This is it.'' Mikan said. ''I don't really have the time or money to go shopping nowadays, so this is all I have for the time being.''
''This is it?'' Aoi mumbled, walking in. ''We have ten bedrooms in our house that are triple the size of this room.''
''Well,'' Mikan smiled, ''you are one lucky girl, Aoi, and I bet your onii-san is still worried about you. Promise me you'll text him as soon as possible, okay?''
Aoi stiffened. ''Fine, I will.''
''Good.''
''But, seriously, we need to find you something to wear.''
Aoi opened up the doors to the wardrobe and peeked inside. Her jaw dropped.
''You only have...'' she began counting, '...five outfits?''
''Ah, yeah,'' Mikan mumbled. ''I don't really like shopping.''
Truth was, Mikan loved clothes shopping. Nothing made her happier than coming home with armfuls of new coats and new shoes - but she had to sell most of her belongings to pay back the debt.
''Well, never mind,'' Aoi's hand disappeared into the darkness and reemerged with the pink tweed dress she was planning to wear. ''This is...this will have to do.''
Mikan nodded and kneeled down to search for her makeup box underneath her bed. Upon finding it, she pulled it out and handed it over to Aoi, who was still staring at the dress.
''I don't have much makeup,'' Mikan said sheepishly, ''I think I only own one lipstick.''
Aoi placed the dress on the bed. ''That's fine. You're pretty, so you don't need much makeup anyway.''
Mikan blushed. ''You really think so?''
''Yeah, of course.'' She began rooting through the contents of the box. ''If onii-san brought home a girl like you, I'd be happy.''
Mikan stopped, unsure whether that was meant to be a compliment or not.
''You should see some of the girls my onii-san brings home, ugh!'' Aoi stuck her tongue out.
''Why, what's wrong with them?''
Aoi began to apply blush to Mikan's cheeks.
''They're drunk half the time, so I don't even bother trying to talk to them. All they want is onii-san, they never pay attention to me.''
Mikan frowned, the brush tickling her skin. ''That's not very nice.''
''Onii-san said if any of them are mean to me, he'd make sure they never step foot in the house again.''
''Surely if they wanted to get on your onii-san's good side, they'd make an effort to talk to you?''
''Yeah, I know. This one time, a girl that liked onii-san bought me a necklace and said she would take me out to eat and stuff. I was excited at first because I always wanted a big sister figure and I thought if she and onii-san got together, we could all go out together. You know, family trips and that.''
''That sounds nice.''
''Yeah, it did - until I found out she was only being nice to me to get to onii-san. After he rejected her, she stopped talking to me and asked for the necklace back.''
The next twenty minutes was spent with Aoi perfecting Mikan's makeup and telling stories about her family and life.
''Yeah, and I dared my friend to eat the whole cake slice in one bit, and she almost threw up!'' Aoi giggled, putting away a brush.
''I'd love to get dared to eat cake,'' Mikan chuckled, admiring herself in the mirror now that she had the dress on. There was no denying that Aoi was a good makeup artist, and the pink eye shadow she used only accentuated her dress.
Glancing at the clock in the corner of her room, Mikan quickly went to her wardrobe to grab a cardigan.
''I've got to go now or else I'll be late. You can stay over but make sure you text your onii-san. It's been fun talking to you, Aoi.''
Aoi hugged Mikan tightly. ''Thank you for letting me stay. I'll text him, don't worry.''
''Good. I'm going now, bye!''
Mikan walked out of her bedroom and through the kitchen, grabbing an orange from the table on her way out. She threw her keys into her bag and got into the lift.
Aoi's brother sure sounds like a catch.
She remembered the story Aoi told of her tenth birthday and pictured a tall handsome man around her age playing Frisbee with her in the park.
''Onii-san may be scary to other people, but he is the best brother ever!''
After a few more moments of nonsensical daydreaming about Aoi's brother, she quickly shook her head and walked out of the building and hailed down a taxi.
''I need to go to Love Divine, please.''
What would a rich, smart, and nice guy want to do with a poor, stupid hostess?
''Alright.''
Even the taxi driver gave her a strange look.
Ah, at least the daydreams were nice while they lasted.
He was on the verge of crushing his phone with his bare hands.
''Did she pick up yet?'' Ruka asked.
''No.'' Natsume snarled, glaring at his phone. ''This will be the thirtieth time I've called her.''
Ruka sighed. ''Maybe we should find someone to look for her. It's almost eleven and-''
They were interrupted by the sound of knocking at the front door.
''Ah, speak of the devil,'' Ruka awkwardly smiled.
''She better have a good explanation.''
Ruka rolled his eyes and followed suit. ''Calm down, don't kill the poor child.''
Natsume marched down the wide corridor and opened the front door. A scared and worried Aoi was standing on the front step.
Natsume glared daggers at her.
''Where. Have. You. Been?''
''Natsume...'' Ruka softly called.
''I'm sorry,'' she sniffled.
''Aoi-chan, your brother has been worried sick about you,'' Ruka gently said. ''What were you doing and why weren't you answering your phone?''
''I...got on the wrong bus home and panicked, but this really nice girl called Sakura let me go to her apartment for a bit.''
''You went home with a stranger?'' Natsume snapped. ''And why didn't you call for the Hyuuga chauffeur?''
''She was really nice! She gave me chocolates and let me do her makeup for her,'' she piped up loudly. ''And sometimes I want to get the bus like any other normal teenager, is that so wrong?''
Natsume squinted his eyes at her. ''No, but you clearly can't even get on the right one.''
''Alright, alright,'' Ruka said, ''let's get you inside and we can talk about it then, okay?''
Aoi huffed at Natsume and ran inside, her bag hitting Ruka's hip. The three then walked into the large Hyuuga-mansion kitchen and seated themselves at the long dining table.
''I'll make us some tea,' Ruka said, getting up.
''Tell me what happened,'' Natsume seethed, ''now.''
Aoi sniffled. ''After school, Momoko-chan asked me if I wanted to go to the art gallery with her, since we had a project coming up. I said yes and then she called for her chauffeur to take us there.''
''Which Momoko?''
''Momoko Gotokuji.''
''From the Gotokuji family?''
''Uh-huh.''
Figured. Aoi went to a private school with children from aristocracy, noble families and even those with royal connections - if anyone had recognized her late at night by herself, she could've been in some serious danger.
''So we went. I told her I could get the bus home and so I did. Except, I got on the complete wrong bus. Luckily, this really nice girl called Sakura said I could go to her place.''
''Sakura?''
''Yeah, she said her name was Sakura. She was very pretty. You'd like her, onii-san.''
Natsume paused for a moment, taken aback by Aoi's comment.
''That was sweet of her to take you in,'' Ruka said as he placed three mugs of steaming tea down onto the table.
''Yeah, it was.'' Aoi grabbed a cup and took a small sip. ''We should invite Sakura-chan round to say thanks.''
Sakura-chan.
An image of a annoying giggling Sakura Mikan popped into his head.
''No.'' he said.
''What! You can't be serious. She helped me!''
''Natsume,'' Ruka said, ''don't be unreasonable. She helped Aoi-chan.''
Ping! 1 new message.
Natsume looked at his phone screen and saw a text from no other than Sumire.
I'm guessing you saw the headlines this morning. May I remind you of our date we have tomorrow? I'm sick of waiting for you, Natsume. I need you to take action now or else there'll be serious consequences. Need me to remind you of the newspapers?
''I'm going to bed,'' Natsume abruptly said as he stood up.
''What?'' Aoi asked. ''But we were still discussing Sakura-chan.''
''Let him go, Aoi-chan. Your onii-san has had a hard day worrying about you and whatnot.''
Natsume left the kitchen.
''But I want to see Sakura-chan again!'' Aoi called.
He slowly moved up the stairs, his mind filled with images of a screaming and crying Sumire. He sighed and creased his brows.
''I said I want to see Sakura-chan!''
Suddenly, a calm image of Sakura Mikan popped into his throbbing head.
No screaming.
No crying.
Just Sakura Mikan, in all her chestnut-haired and chocolate-eyed glory.
Figured, since Aoi kept talking about this mysterious 'Sakura' woman. Mikan just happened to be one of the many Sakuras he knew and she just so happened to be the first one he thought of. After all, he had bumped into her that particular morning.
No big deal.
He reached his bedroom and began to undress.
He was dreading sleep; he knew that once he opened his eyes at the start of tomorrow, it would be the day that he was supposed to take Sumire out on a date. After all, he was forced to by his father.
Not to mention, the tabloids would go crazy if they found out about it.
He ruffled his hair and climbed under the duvet, waiting for the sleep to finally kick in.
After a few moments of silence, two bright-brown eyes popped into his head. Followed by a large smile. Followed by an annoying high-pitched laugh.
Sakura Mikan.
''Ugh,'' he groaned.
Still?
Well, he figured, he was in no way eager to fall asleep so he might as well think about her ugly face all night long to keep him up; there was no way he could fall asleep whilst thinking about her irritating face.
It was one of the most peaceful sleeps he'd ever had.
- x -
A/N: let me know what you guys think and if you have any plot suggestions ~
