I have not been here for quite a while. But for what it's worth, I'm here! I am very sorry.
Her Favorite Boy
By Y. M. H.O
Chapter 12: I Know What I'm Asking For
Natsume clutched the package with his arm and exited the antique-looking shop smugly, and quite surprised. He expected to haggle with the old man with all his skill, but then, the man had a different idea all of a sudden.
He glanced back at the shop and noticed its worn-down look, with the red bricks crumbling and the 'Welcome' sign faded. The windows were hazy and he could see the faint outline of the face of the earlier sales lady.
Warm.
He had always prided himself as good at judging other people's potential and intention. The way the woman smiled that made the slight wrinkles appear at the edges of her eyes screamed 'warm'. Even the old man with the hard lines on his face exuded it.
The feeling wasn't alien to him—he has his mother and sister.
And as he walked away, staring at the wet stone path weathered by the hundreds of people that had walked upon it, he wondered if he was capable of offering it to the one who needed it the most.
The woman smiled from the window and turned to the old man behind the counter.
"Are you sure you're alright, Papa?" She smirked at his hurt face and the hand that was rubbing his chest. He sighed and raised an eyebrow at his daughter.
"He looked truly desperate and determined. Plus, it's rare for someone to recognize the Firebolt." He explained and played with the rusting weighing scale on a cabinet. His daughter walked over, grabbed a rag and proceeded to another cabinet with the smirk still on her face.
"Tsk. But to the extent of giving it for free?" She countered and slid a hand over the cerulean glass goblet. The man shrugged.
"I told you, he seemed desperate." His daughter shrugged back and walked toward the hidden staircase.
"We're poor you know."
"We're not. And if we were, you seem to be enjoying our impoverished state." His father snapped and picked up a spare rag to wipe the dust from the counter. She ascended the stairs that creaked under her weight.
"You're just jelly because he's young and in love." She broke into a sprint as a rag flew towards her.
"I'm not and you know it!" He called out.
"For the love of god, just get a love life!" Her voice echoed.
Rags suddenly learned to fly.
The manor was quiet. The servants were doing their respective jobs as the sun rose over the horizon and settled at the peak of the sky.
The garden was pruned and watered, the daisies and tulips sparkling; the receiving room with its lavish furniture vacuumed and polished to perfection that anyone could easily see his/her reflection on the marble floor; the cold hallways with the portraits and paintings looked magnificent as always; everything was the same, except that there was a certain dread laced with sadness that lingered in the air.
But all the same, however cold it seemed, the room at the end of the corridor along the third floor echoed happiness.
"Mikan, you don't know what you're doing." Hotaru deadpanned and struggled against her bindings.
"Then forgive me, for I don't know what I'm doing." Mikan simply replied and reached for the brush on the dresser and dipped it on paint, er, make-up.
"Mikan you don't know what you're doing, really." Hotaru repeated and Mikan merely nodded, concentrated in her work.
"Mikan, I am not a painting." She almost shouted and freed one leg from the duct tape. Mikan nodded once more.
"It's alright, paintings are beautiful." She said thoughtfully and dipped her brush once more. Hotaru's eyes widened in irritation.
"I'm not an abstract painting!" She wailed.
"Oh gods, Mikan. Please let me go and just do it myself." She pleaded and jumped from her chair, but she was bound to it that she bounced. Mikan grinned.
"I didn't ask you to do this to me a while ago. I'm just returning the favor." She replied in a sickeningly sweet voice that Hotaru cringed.
"I am being the better person now and asking for forgiveness—"She started before the artist interrupted her speech by patting her nose.
"There goes. You're done!" Mikan declared and stood a foot away, appraising her work.
"I am good. I should consider this as a profession."
"Not a make-up artist, a painter Mikan, painter." Hotaru emphasized as she stared at herself in the mirror while her friend undid the bindings. Mikan glanced up.
"Oh. You look like the woman from Van Gogh's Scream. I really am good." She muttered and grinned once more as Hotaru grabbed a wet cloth and furiously rubbed the paint, er, make-up from her face.
"We wasted time. The program is going to start 45 minutes from now." Hotaru sighed and started fixing herself. Mikan just plopped on the couch, busying herself with a copy of Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. They stayed in silence before she placed the book down.
"Why am I wearing a dress, Hotaru?" Mikan fidgeted at the edge of her green dress. Hotaru paused and stared at Mikan.
"It's graduation day." She said simply and sighed. She knew what was going on in her mind.
"But is it… worth it?" Will he really come today?
Hotaru went back to powdering her face, staring at her reflection once more.
"Yes." He will.
It took approximately 20 minutes for Hotaru to prepare, leaving them enough time to lag around. Mikan was fidgety and couldn't stop rubbing her thumb with her middle finger, a sign of her nervousness. Hotaru sighed for the nth time and grabbed her arm to lead her down the polished staircase.
"Don't you look like a slut today?" She teased and immediately, Mikan snapped up.
"I do? Let me go change into my slacks and polo shirt for a minute—" She snatched back her arm and was supposedly rushing up the stairs before Hotaru grabbed her once more.
"Can't you take a joke Mikan? It's ok, you look beautiful in that simple way." She reasoned and waited for a few seconds for her companion to relax. She felt the tension from her muscles release.
"Oh wait Hotaru, I have something for you." This time, she rushed down the stairs and towards the huge, golden sofa in the middle. She crouched and reached an arm under to retrieve a plain white package.
Hotaru watched her movements with a mixture of amusement and wariness, and then surprise. She stared at the wrapped object stretched out to her.
"Umm, here. This is for you. Happy Graduation Day?" Mikan muttered anxiously. Hotaru still didn't say anything and just stared at the package as if it were a cockroach trying to swim.
"Am I supposed to say something…" Mikan inclined the package towards her friend who was frozen.
"Sorry for my fabulous painting skills? Happy Graduation Day again?" She stuttered and almost gave up when Hotaru suddenly sunk to the ground and hid her face in her hands.
"Did I do something? Did I say something? Okay, it's alright, forget about this, I'm sorry for even thinking—" She stopped when Hotaru looked up with moist in her eyes.
"It's alright, idiot. I'm taking that." She snapped and suddenly the package was gone from her hand. Mikan watched nervously as Hotaru stared once more at the object.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Wait idiot, I'm ingraining this to my memory." Mikan clamped her mouth shut and was tempted to exit the house when she started ripping the wrap.
"It's a camera." Hotaru mouthed in awe and her companion grinned and wrung her hands in excitement.
"It's a Polaroid camera! Am I not amazing?" She exclaimed and grinned when a few of the servants passed by. Two of the maids stopped in their tracks dropping towels and the silverware that the clattering echoed. A few more staff rushed to the scene and the reactions were priceless.
"Master… Mikan?" A woman whispered, her eyes wide and scanning the younger's figure.
"She's wearing a dress!"
"Isn't that make-up?"
"How in the world did Hotaru manage…?" Mutterings could be heard as they stared at Mikan and her attire. The latter only laughed and motioned them forward.
"Come on, Hotaru. Let's take a picture." She grinned and was handed the camera. Hotaru stood still against the grand backdrop and smiled, truly. The picture was immediately printed and Hotaru clutched the film, fascinated.
Mikan motioned the present staff to come forward and they did, after a few seconds of hesitation. She took the picture and laughed at the various expressions of the people in it.
"Come on, Hotaru. Let's go." She grinned and walked past the door, too fast that Hotaru was only able to capture a photo of her exiting the house, auburn hair flowing with the wind. Her face was hidden from view, and Hotaru felt a cold feeling crawl up her spine.
She dismissed it and followed after her, not noticing the worried stares the servants bore as they left.
Natsume glanced at the crowd, looking for a spot of dark auburn in the ocean of hues. He had seen Ruka with his posh aunt, looking as they were having a heated discussion. Most of his classmates were there, wearing ridiculous outfits under their togas and chatting excitedly.
"Natsume!" A familiar voice interrupted him from his search just as a pair of hands clutched his shoulders.
"We thought we lost you! Oh… I knew I picked the right suit! Red tie really suits you. It brings out my eyes." Kaoru exclaimed and patted her own shoulder. Natsume rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Who are you waiting for… Ah, there she is!" Natsume whipped around, looking over the heads of the passers-by glancing non-too discreetly at him. Then he saw her.
She was wearing a crimson dress that highlighted her long, creamy legs, and a black cardigan over it. But she was stunning all the same. Her hair was curled and she smiled as she walked over to him.
"Hotaru."
"Natsume." Aoi smiled knowingly at her mother who pinched her arm at her blatant display. Hotaru was staring at the character who kept glancing at the crowd, oblivious to the attention directed at him. Kaoru took a glimpse at Hotaru's expression before taking Natsume by the arm and leading him away.
"What?" He snapped, showing no reaction although the hold on his arm visibly tightened.
"Say something to her!"
"What?"
"Oh come on, you should know better than that." Kaoru steered him towards where Hotaru was, smiling apologetically. Hotaru just bowed her head before returning the gesture. Natsume sighed.
"Hi Hotaru. Happy graduation." He offered a hand and the eyes of the onlookers, especially those who were watching the exchange hopefully popped out. They turned away from the painful sight.
"Oh." A monosyllable was the only thing that left Hotaru's lips. She stared at his outstretched hand.
"Oh?" Natsume was getting impatient, why the hell do people keep on interrupting his search! He eyed the crowd, his hand still offered. Hotaru took it hesitantly.
"Happy graduation day too." She forced the words out and glanced at Kaoru who was staring at her embarrassedly.
"—You look wonderful ma'am." She smiled and Kaoru wiped a tear for Natsume's ignorance. Or numbness. Just… painful.
The older woman swooped at her words.
"Oh Hotaru, do you have plans after the ceremony?" She moved forward and grabbed the hand from Natsume's. Hotaru tried not to look disappointed at releasing the warm hand from hers.
"Umm, I don't?"
"Perfect! You're joining us for dinner. And mind you, it's a special dinner, we have a special guest!" She exclaimed and clasped Hotaru's hand tightly that she winced. Aoi sighed.
"Okay."
"You don't have any plans right?" Hotaru glanced at Natsume and smirked.
"No, I don't."
Kira watched the encounter between the two raven-heads dejectedly. She couldn't help but feel a slight pity for Hotaru, whose infatuation has gone unnoticed by Natsume. Well, how could he? He was busy searching the crowd for Mikan. And Kaoru, Aoi, Hotaru and everyone else knew that.
It was an open secret that Natsume was smitten with Mikan.
Everyone else knew except the two parties involved, of course. Just like a cheesy shoujo manga. Kira hated those.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?" A voice whispered in her left ear and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at the warm breath. She pushed an elbow back and was greeted by a satisfying groan.
"Hmm. What has been too long?" She hummed and turned around, pleased to see that the culprit was crouched and clutching his ribs.
"What was that for?" Koko yelled, earning a few annoyed stares. Kira sighed.
"That's for… nothing. Now don't change the subject you silly sparrow." She chided and took a step towards him. He retreated fearfully, with narrowed eyes.
"Silly sparrow? You're calling me silly and a sparrow? What the—"
"You kinda look like one, admit it."
"Excuse me, Ms. Suichiro. I do not look like a sparrow." He 'hmphed' and crossed his arms over his chest, wrinking his polo that was the same hue as the sunset. Kira laughed.
"Well, you do, Mr. Yome. Especially with that orange outfit of yours." At this, Koko flushed beet red and turned away, raising a hand to his hair to ruffle it. Kira had to avert her eyes lest she admit that he looked adorable. Then it dawned upon her.
"Where's Mikan? Have you seen her?"
"It's from my uncle. He insisted that I wear—"
"Ok I don't care, hey have you seen her?"
"It supposedly is a lucky polo, I know it's ridiculous but—"
"IT'S ALRIGHT!" She burst out and clutched his shoulders to get his attention. Koko turned to her, startled, and was more when he realized what she was doing.
"It's really alright? My polo…?" He asked in a small voice, looking anywhere but at Kira's dangerously blue eyes.
"Yes! So focus on my question. Have. You. Seen. Mikan?" She enunciated every word, barely noticing that the lounge was emptying and the people were shuffling towards the hall. Koko seemed to return to his senses and grabbed Kira's hand away from his shoulders.
"I thought I saw her by the entrance. It looked like she was waiting for someone, though." He responded, unaware that he was still clutching her hands. Kira cocked her head to the side.
"Ah. That's why she wasn't with Hotaru. Speaking of Hotaru? Did you see… that?" She pointed at the direction where they once were, and for the first time in a few minutes, perceived that he was holding her hand. She coughed.
"Umm… Yome?" She spoke awkwardly. Okay Kira not too obvious not too obvious. You're over him, right?
"Yes?"
"Please let go of me."
"Oh sorry! I didn't notice…" He released her hands as if burnt. Kira's eyebrow rose as if insulted and she hid her hands behind her back.
"Ummm… Hotaru looked rather lovely, didn't she?" She started and looked around once more. There was no one left, except the both of them.
"Yes. But there's something off about her. I have the feels." Koko replied and leaned against the wall.
"You have the feels?" She asked incredulously and he just stared at her smugly.
"Once a mind-reader, always a mind-reader."
"Yeah, whatever you say. But I pity her to some degree. Liking a very oblivious to the point of absurdity- boy is a pain in the ass. Or the heart." She muttered and walked towards the mahogany doors.
Koko watched her silently, trying not to notice how slim and athletic she looked, wearing that blue dress that brought out her eyes. Her hair wasn't restrained by any band, that it was caught by the wind.
She was pretty, in that odd, sort of way.
Koko hated himself for admitting that.
He pushed himself from the wall and jogged after her, the sound of the leaves swirling in wind and their footsteps the only thing discernible.
"Well, you seem to know how bad she feels." He pointed out, and had to deal with a stinging ear on their way to the doors that separated them from the crowd.
The first thing Kira noted was the hot gust of air that blew onto her face when she pushed open the door. It was stuffed inside, and she wrinkled her nose at the smell- a mixture of sweat, perfume and bad breath—that assaulted her nose.
Koko was next to come in and he immediately wished he hadn't. But there was no choice now, he had to finish the bothersome program to get it over with.
"Oh, there she is." Kira nudged him and pointed at the last row, where Mikan was sitting, evidently nervous.
"Why isn't she sitting at the third row with the rest of the honors?" He asked and stared at Mikan who had an unoccupied seat beside her and seemed to be reserving it for someone.
"You said that she was waiting for someone."
"Hmm. I said that."
Mikan wasn't nervous one bit. The narrator had been lying—she wasn't rubbing her thumb with her middle finger, she wasn't sweating profusely that her white dress clung to her back, she wasn't looking around as if she were a criminal, and she wasn't in the verge of panic, nope.
It was expected, she sighed. She knew that if her father were coming, he was going to be late. But no matter, no matter. It was a miracle that he even agreed to attend the 'nonsensical' ceremony.
She had to remind herself to forget that he was attending this for Hotaru. No, he was doing this for her too!
"Top two."
"As expected. Well, is that all?"
Her father was doing this for her. Yes, for her.
They were asked to stand, the doxology was sung and the principal was delivering her opening remarks when she noticed.
Natsume was motioning furiously at her and the seat beside him, and she could almost recognize what he was mouthing. It had to be along the lines of 'idiot you come here', 'are you mad?', and 'what the hell are you doing?'
She just grinned and gave him a thumbs-up sign and was relieved that he finally gave up and turned back to the front. She saw Hotaru stealing glances at Natsume, and Ruka leaning forward, quite embarrassed and annoyed at the display.
The principal had finished his speech and a guest speaker, wearing camouflage and multiple pins, was introduced. She nodded, impressed at the soldier's gait. Mikan could barely register his words about family, loyalty and love. Such succinctness was his pronunciation and his low tone, that she felt her head drop.
But no! She raised her head and forced her eyes to search the crowd. He had to be somewhere, maybe stuck behind a group of fat grandmothers; maybe he left the hall and was waiting outside because of the smell. Yes… that has to be it.
She almost made up her mind to focus on the program when a flash of black caught her eye. Mikan snapped her head in the former direction and felt her chest fill with relief.
He was standing stiffly, wearing an all-black suit that matched his posture. Mikan smiled at the thought of him shuffling inside with all the other parents and ruing his contact with the noisy creatures. He found a good spot though, the crowd wasn't so thick and the air shouldn't be the same.
She stared at him, hoping that he would catch her gaze, but he wasn't paying attention to the program or the people around him.
Something was different. He was smiling.
At this observation, Mikan straightened in her seat and narrowed her eyes to get a better view. He was smiling, but not at her. There has to be someone…
Oh.
Mikan couldn't help a grin form on her lips as she caught sight of Aunt Kaoru smiling up at him. So they know each other, she thought. Does Natsume know?
Names were being called now; the speaker had finished his speech long ago. Students were ascending the stage with their parents in tow, beaming.
Tsubasa Ando walked up the stairs with a young, beautiful woman clinging onto his arm. It took a moment for the others to realize that this was his mother, and the most of the hall's population gaped at the curvy woman and her Chanel bag. Tsubasa merely winked.
Misaki strutted her way, leaving her aunt to hold onto dusty maroon the curtains. She sneezed loudly and many people suppressed laughter that the hall was filled with awkward coughs.
Names were being called out in a grand tone, as if the emcee were a referee in boxing. But Mikan paid no mind to the snickers, she turned to look for his father in the crowd.
Holding hands.
Mikan's brain cells froze for a minute when she saw the entwined hands of her father and Aunt Kaoru. They weren't looking at each other but a contented smile was present on their faces.
She ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach and stared on. Her father didn't seem aware of her attention.
"And finally, ladies and gentlemen, the exceptional Students of Class 2009." The speakers boomed and the hall thundered with applause. The honor students from the third row stood simultaneously and the volume of the cheers increased.
"You packing made it!"
"Go nerdos!"
"Make way for the King!" Three students stood and beat on their chests, flashing their 'Yuu are the King' badges. The other students followed and soon after, they were all chanting 'Yuu are the King'.
Mikan chanced a glance in his father's direction, only to see that his gaze was on the stage, watching as the Top Ten student claimed his diploma. Occasionally he would lean down for Aunt Kaoru to whisper something in his ear and he would return the favor.
Mikan almost missed her name until a student shoved her forward.
"Sakura Mikan."
She walked quickly from her position and towards the stage, grinning when Tamaki release red heart-shaped balloons that the principal struggled to reach.
She received her diploma and a small bronze box containing the medal gratefully, before turning, expecting her father to be there.
She was met by an empty space.
"Ms. Sakura, where is your guardian?" The vice-principal whispered. Mikan forced a smile and grabbed the medal from its box.
"Umm… He's busy with something… But it's okay… There!" Her hands were shaking as she placed it around her neck quickly, praying that no one would notice. She faced the camera with a smile.
"But—"
"I'm alright. Is it fine if I go back now?" Mikan cut-off, aware of the whisperings around her. She descended from the stage shakily and tried her best not to glance at his father's direction.
"Hyuuga Natsume."
A deafening applause followed and Mikan watched with pride as Aunt Kaoru and Aoi strutted down the aisle as if they were in a pageant. Natsume's [unallowed but not disbanded] fan club offered the pair pink roses which they accepted gratefully.
She laughed at Natsume's embarrassed expression when the two reached him and slung an arm around his. The audience noticed this and muffled their laughter upon seeing the glare directed at them.
Mikan took out her phone and was supposed to capture the second when suddenly the noises ceased. She looked up and her breath was caught in her throat.
A man, clad in an all-black suit followed the Natsume's wake. There were hard lines on his face and he walked with some kind of cold confidence, but there was no denying that he was handsome.
Aunt Kaoru gave him a smile, and Mikan knew.
Her heart beat so quickly inside her chest that she thought that her ribs might break and pierce her flesh, it was scorching hot that it took all her willpower not to rip off the toga and dress from herself, suddenly, suddenly, the world was spinning and going out of control she couldn't see the images were swirling into a mirage of colors—blue, back, green…
She stood up and didn't look back, exiting the hall as silently as she could. As if she was never there.
"Father."
She whispered the tiniest of whispers, almost inaudible but he heard it. He squeezed Kaoru's hand and slipped away from the crowd departing from the hall.
Mikan didn't know if she should be glad that he even responded to her calling him 'father', but she smiled all the same as he approached and pointed to a more secluded area around the corner. Her smile didn't falter even if she noticed that he dared not touch her.
"You came." She beamed up at him, but she was met by a cold stare. What happened to your smile with Aunt Kaoru?
"I did. And I'm leaving." He responded coolly and took out his phone to type. She waited patiently, rubbing her thumb with her middle finger anxiously.
"Wouldn't we have a celebratory dinner?" Just this once? She raised the question hopefully stepping forward.
"No. Do whatever you want, go home." He said simply and turned away, preoccupied by his phone. She seized his arm out of impulse and regretted it the moment they made contact and he stared at her.
"Don't touch me." Izumi spat and freed his arm from her grasp. He was walking away before she could utter another word.
"Yuki? Oh there you are… We thought you ditched us for your rebellious daughter." Kaoru chided and reached for his hand.
"I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't do that ever." He smiled and led her away, much to Aoi and Natsume's surprise and embarrassment. They moved to follow when Kaoru paused in her tracks.
"Oh. I forgot. Hotaru's joining us for dinner! Is that alright, hun?" She tugged on Izumi's hand like a child, ignorant of his sudden stiffening at the name. They turned around and found her frozen, staring between Kaoru and Izumi. The latter stared at her for a long time that the hairs on the back of her neck stood. He suddenly smiled.
"Of course. Miss Brilliant Hotaru could join us." Kaoru giggled at his answer and slapped his arm, then going stiff as if hit by lightning.
"Oh my gosh. I think we're forgetting someone. Where is she? Where's Mikan?" Both Izumi and Hotaru's head snapped in attention laced with unease.
"I think she went home. I saw her by the gate minutes ago." Hotaru piped in before anyone could speak. Aoi tilted her head in confusion.
"Huh? She's right there."
Hotaru closed her eyes , not having any urge to turn and see the look on her face. Izumi merely chuckled.
"Aren't you inviting too many people, hun?" He poked her ribs but she just smiled at him.
"I don't think so. Plus, she's Natsume's best friend!" Kaoru reasoned and motioned Mikan forward.
"Mikan, come over here!"
"Mikan-nee!"
Mikan's legs were frozen on the spot, her throat abruptly dry. She smiled wanly and was about to wave no, when she found herself walking forward. She stopped a few feet before them.
"Hi Aunt Kaoru! What's going on?" She asked cheerfully, quite aware that Hotaru was averting her stare. Kaoru released her hold on Izumi and clasped her hands.
"We're having dinner! It's a special dinner, since we have an equally special guest." She tipped her head in the man's direction.
"I'm sorry if I didn't introduce you earlier—" Mikan felt moisture gathering at the sides of her eyes and she bowed her head.
"—this is Yuki. My soon-to-be husband, future father of Natsume and Aoi."
I apologize for my crappy writing. Lately I have been on the verge of giving it up, and things aren't looking bright. This was an exhausting chapter to write, but still... KoRa all the way!
Thank you for everything.
Review?
Y. M. H. O