Ahoy!
A million, bazillion thanks to those who reviewed or added this to her favorite/alert list. You've made my day.
And I apologize, for I am to forsake what I told you last chapter. The setting of this chapter won't be after 7 years yet. I was about to write it~ but then an anonymous reviewed that Mikan and Hotaru's characters are very askew. And how could Koko read minds, really?
This is for them, for Hotaru—whose nonchalant façade was born of desperation, Kira—who keeps holding on, and for Koko—mysterious and vague, yet open and kind.
Ultimately, this is for you.
Her Favorite Boy
Chapter 16: Selfish of Me
The next time they met was at the hospital.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of disinfectant, salt, and sweat all laced together so thickly it burned the lungs. The television in the corner filled with static then recovered once more, revealing Audrey Hepburn with coiffed hair and all her glory.
Koko shifted in his seat, and the elderly woman across him snapped her head at the sound. He tried to smile but it appeared as a grimace instead. She returned to watching the black and white scene at the corner, like all the other eight people her age.
Koko stared at the blue plastic beneath him and cursed. Why were all the hospital chairs so creaky? Why do they need to be joined by the black metal bars that force skinship and everything uncomfortable? Why does he—
Just as he was about to curse aloud, she rounded the corner.
Kira wore her dark hair in a pony tail, wearing tattered blue jeans and a shirt with strange Greek letters printed on it. Her skin was fair from the blinding, hospital lights and her eyes alight with mirth. Koko's breath caught in his throat.
But she wasn't alone; her right arm was around a petite, old woman in a yellow sundress. They appeared to be talking, and the elderly's eyes twinkled.
Koko didn't know whether to run or hide or stay or to do all those things at once. He caught her eye and he felt himself shrivel in his seat, like sinful weed under the cursed sun. Kira's mouth formed a thin line and she seated the elderly near the corner, far away.
Just like that Koko was a healthy weed once more.
He turned away and focused on the number printed on the small piece of paper. 43.
"Number 39! The doctor's ready to see you!"
"Excuse me, Miss. Ms. Nakamura here has an appointment with the doctor scheduled two hours ago. We just couldn't make it because she had an attack again." Koko raised his head at the sound of the voice and spotted Kira hovering near the door. She had a certain look on her face; he almost smiled.
"Me? Like you?" she turned her head again and distanced herself properly. "Mister, I may have seemed shy around you at first but that doesn't mean," She neared her face towards his and he unconsciously leaned in, "that I like you." Then she flicked his forehead and he recoiled while she laughed out loud.
"And your point is?" The nurse, a twenty-something blonde who deliberately had her hair dyed raised a plucked eyebrow. Wait, is hair color even allowed for nurses? Koko mused.
"We wish to see the doctor now. If you would look it up on your chart, you would see the name. Suniko Nakamura." Kira snapped. The nurse's other eyebrow rose before she glanced at the chart. Barely.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but whether Miss…" She faltered deliberately.
"Nakamura." The dark-haired snapped.
"…Nakamura is here or not, if she missed her schedule, you would have to get a number over there—" She pointed a well-manicured finger at the machine to Kira's widening eyes, "—and wait for your turn." Her mouth formed a slight 'o'.
"Excuse me, but I believe you could, and should make an exception here. The appointment was schedule two weeks ago, and my grandmother—" she caught herself, "Miss Nakamura couldn't make it because she had a vertigo attack. And you're telling me to wait, for what, two hours?" Kira finished in one breath and glared at the nurse hotly. They were garnering attention now, most staff and even the senior citizens were watching the display.
"Well honey, hospital policy. And I happen to be a good employee, so… off with you." She responded with an extra 'pop' on her lips and motioned her away. Kira stared, stunned. After a while she seemed to lose her strength.
"What's going on here?" A deep voice interjected the silence that stretched before them. Many heads turned. It was the doctor.
"Nothing, doc. I'll be calling your next—" The nurse spoke triumphantly when she was interrupted… by loud, ugly sobs. The doctor turned to Kira, who by then, had her face hidden behind her hands.
"Is there a problem, Miss?" He asked worriedly and came forward. Kira stepped to the side to hide her face further. The sobs grew louder and uglier that the doctor winced.
"Its—it's nothing… Nothing. I-I understand." She made a move to turn away when the doctor held her arm.
"You can tell me."
"My-my… my grandma h-had her appoint—appointment t-two hours ago… She-she had a verti… vertigo attack and—and…" She stuttered and broke into fresh sobs. The doctor's eyes widened and he stared at the blonde nurse, who immediately backed away.
"And you didn't want to let her in? A vertigo attack, she told you…" He trailed off and grabbed Kira's arm.
"I'll see her. Where is she?" He asked urgently. Kira nodded behind her hands and went over to her grandmother who tried to suppress a smile.
The door closed behind them. Kira dropped her hands and stopped sobbing. The waiting area burst into an applause. The blonde nurse's jaw dropped. Kira curtsied and Koko found himself smiling. 'She hasn't changed after all.'
"Damn, child. I almost bought your acting."
"Very well-executed!"
"Teach me master!"
Kira smiled at each one of them then bowed.
"I'm sorry for cutting the line. Truly, I am. What I said about grandma is all true. She had an attack and she wanted to rest and—"
"It's alright, child. We understand. I wish I had a granddaughter like you." An old man with a fedora hat and a cane remarked and gave her a smile. She blushed.
"Still, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She repeated but the patients just waved. Kira turned around and winked at the fuming nurse behind her. She opened her mouth in a snarl—
"I suppose you're a good employee after all." The nurse shut her mouth, glared at her, and then walked away. Kira smirked after her, but her heart was pounding inside her chest; Koko was laughing. She willed her right foot to pivot and it did, then the other one. She was sure that she was going to make it without any complications; she should appear to not recognize him and simply walk away yes that was it—
"A very remarkable performance, Miss Suichiro. I was foolish to think you've changed." His voice was smooth but deeper, and she tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine. There's no going back now, she thought. She turned and coughed up a surprised 'oh!'. Koko's eyes twinkled.
"I didn't see you there." He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her knowingly. Bullshit.
Kira ordered her brain cells to strike each other but stopped them at the last minute.
"Oh really… I believe you." He responded. Damn, Kira cursed inside her head. She opted for a smile.
"Thanks… Nice seeing you." She wanted to get away fast; she didn't want to wait for his response, when he patted the empty seat next to him.
"Would you mind talking?" He asked. Alarm bells were sounding off inside her head; some cells screaming 'stop, drop and roll'. She gulped almost imperceptibly.
"Of course. I don't mind, really." Her legs felt like lead as she strode three steps to sit beside him. Koko's lungs were burning he prayed he wouldn't have an asthma attack.
Of course the two of them were a mess behind the friendly façades.
"So… so how have you been?" Koko started, as she seated herself inches away from him. She nodded.
"Great. Studying, the likes. How about you?" She swallowed.
"Just like you. Studying. Accountancy, if you would believe it. You?" He was growing more comfortable now; his hands were starting to give up on idolizing the Niagara Falls.
"Accountancy! Damn, I didn't see that coming. Accountant Yome. It has a weird ring to it." She smiled.
"You remember my name." Her smile was wiped off. An awkward silence ensued.
"As you remember mine." Silence again. The elderly woman across them giggled and tapped her companion.
"So er, yes… What do you major in?" Koko coughed and hoped it would hide the slight tremble in his voice.
"Art. I take up Fine Arts. I never thought I would come to this too." She laughed and pointed at her shirt with the theta symbol on it.
"Well three years is quite a long time." He remarked. Kira nodded. Three years had passed since their high school graduation, she was a junior now in Tokyo University. It was hell.
"Where do you go?" She asked Koko, who was fiddling with his thumb.
"Waseda. And… Mikan just transferred this year from Nagoya University." Kira's eyebrow rose in surprise.
"Oh. I go to Tokyo U… Natsume's in there too." Koko turned to her for the first time, and Kira's chest hurt from the pounding of—
"He's taking Business, I reckon." He stared expectantly and she stared back. It took her a few moments to realize he was waiting for a response.
"How… Oh. Mikan's taking Business too." She responded with a sigh. The memory of the two gave her a sad feeling, of friendships that do not last. Of things not meant to be.
"I talk to her frequently. She works part-time to get herself an apartment and for the fees. My heart hurts when I see her." He spoke quietly and slumped in his seat. The last news about Mikan that circulated about was of her running away from home. Koko called it bullshit. She did not run away.
"Natsume's been, well, fine. Quite normal, actually. But you could tell something changed—there's that look in his eyes when I see him. Like he has somewhere to be, someone to be with." She cleared her throat and leaned.
"A lot of our batch mates are in Tokyo U., you know. There's Yuu, Kitsuneme and Hotaru. No one really asked her, but it's known that she still lives in Mikan's home, with Sir Yukihara. Sometimes I don't know whether to scowl at her audacity or cry in pity. Mikan…" She trailed off and sighed. Koko chuckled beside her.
"The life of those around us seem miserable. How about you?"
"What about me? Are you asking if I'm miserable?" She replied, incredulous. Koko sighed.
"I'm asking if you have a boyfriend."
"I am not misera—what?" Kira's jaw dropped in shock. Koko winked at her coolly, but in truth, his hands felt like the Pacific Ocean. He was certain he was going to have an asthma attack right then.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asked calmly. Oh damn, what are you blubbering?
"Are you hitting on me?!" She asked, her voice shrill. Gods in the heavens is this actually—djhjhjjdjh
"Just answer the question." Koko retorted. Kira willed herself to calm with a deep breath.
"No, I don't." Good, she was back to normal… Was that her hand shaking?
"Good. Meet me here on Saturday, same time." He said it as if he was just talking about the weather. Well there's a thunderstorm going on in my hands, Koko 's eyes popped out of their sockets.
"You're asking to meet here in the hospital?" She shrieked. The door opened and revealed her grandma, walking to her urgently and making balloon explosion motions with her hands.
Koko stood, smiling as Kira was dragged away by a bladder-driven old woman.
"I'll wait for you."
The next time Hotaru woke up late, was Saturday.
The sun was already high up in the sky, and blast it, how did she know this, she left the curtains drawn again. She squinted at the ceiling, annoyed, before the memories came flooding her mind. Shit.
She shut her eyes and pulled the white covers over her head.
"Happy Birthday, Natsume."
Her red dress billowed in the wind, and her hair whipped across her forehead. She stood there, staring at a shocked Natsume. After a few seconds of unresponsiveness, she carefully thrust the cake into his direction. He blinked.
"Oh. Hotaru, you didn't have to do this." He said gently and took the cake. Their fingers touched for a second and she forgot to breathe. Warm, he was always warm.
"But I want to. No one seemed to remember a while ago." She responded as casually as she could, and followed him to the table.
"No one seems to know. Except you, actually. I'm surprised, and thankful." He pulled chair and waited until she was seated, before striding over to his place. Such a gentleman, always, she thought.
"Well you don't talk about yourself. I actually know because of Aunt Kaoru." Natsume stiffened at the mention of the name, and Hotaru's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." His eyes were kind.
"No, it's fine. I kind of expected it." Natsume gestured at the set-up: the glass tables and chairs draped with white cloth, red, red rose petals littering the table, the candlelight and the food displayed before them.
Hotaru winced and hid her hands behind the table, hiding the slight cuts from the roses and the burns on her thumb and forefinger. Her limbs were heavy from carrying the furniture.
She smiled.
"But I don't mind. It's fun, really. Let's just enjoy your birthday." She remarked, and picked up her cutlery. She was already slicing the steak when she noticed Natsume staring, unfocused at the candles lit. It made his eyes akin to fire, but there was no ferocity. It was as if it was burnt out, and only the reflection remained.
"Is something wrong?" Hotaru lowered her hands and looked at him with worry. He snapped his head and smiled apologetically.
"Nothing. I just remembered…" He trailed off. She nodded in understanding and pushed down her questions. Why do you always smile at me? Do you even know what it does? What it means to me? She screamed inside her head and just directed all her attention to cutting up the steak and crushing the corn and carrots with more fervor.
Finally, she snapped.
"You're so naïve." She muttered at him and ignored his raised eyebrow.
"I'm what? Naïve? You should see yourself." He retorted and went back to chewing slowly. Hotaru rolled her eyes.
"That statement alone supports my argument." She snapped, and Natsume chuckled.
"Are you actually picking a fight with me?"
"That is, if you want to argue. But I'm right." She concluded and reached for the wine bottle. Natsume grasped it.
"Where are you coming from? What are the actual reasons?" He asked, and released his grip from the bottle. It almost tumbled from Hotaru's hold. She hissed.
"I don't have to tell you."
"Then I win here." A raised eyebrow. The shield of Hotaru's pride cracked. Victory danced at the reflection of the fire against Natsume's eyes. She blew out the candles.
"Let's put it this way. You know about the attraction between the Earth and the moon, right?" She drank the red wine and dabbed as some dribbled to her chin. Natsume nodded, unconvinced.
"Except… It's not mutual. The moon is held by the gravity of the Earth. It revolves around it hopelessly." She tried to piece together a plausible plot. Natsume's eyes narrowed.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Don't you think sometimes… the moon grows tired of spinning around the world?"
"…"
"The moon tries to elicit some reaction—the low tides and the high tides. But somehow, it can never be enough." Natsume stared at her.
"I don't think satellites can experience emotions." Exactly.
"But the Earth, the Earth lives for something… It lives because of something." She continued.
"The Sun." Natsume automatically replied.
"Yes, that piece of hot coal. Earth basks in its heat, is happy with the warmth… and it lives. But at night, it's dark and she's gone. It's cold. But the moon is there, always watching over the Earth, making sure it has all the light it can give." Natsume's eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned back wordlessly. Hotaru set her cutlery on the table with a loud 'clang', and took a deep breath.
"Doesn't the Earth realize that the Sun also hurts him—it? Doesn't it realize that the Sun is so far away… yet the moon is so near?" She faltered; her voice dropping to a whisper.
She stared at Natsume pleadingly, and clasped her shaking hands together underneath the table. A cold wind blew through the garden, past the bushes and hedges, past the flesh and into her heart. Natsume's eyes were obscured by his bangs.
"That must be the wine talking." He raised his head with a worried smile and stood up, offering his arm. There were a million scenarios that played before inside her head, each leading to him offering his arm. But never like this.
Hotaru wanted to cry.
"You're hopeless." She muttered. Natsume blinked then laughed.
"Yes. Maybe I am."
She was taken out of her stupor when her alarm clock beeped; clicking nine times, signaling that it was already nine in the morning. She forced herself to stand up, wincing when her foot fell across the warm wooden floor.
Fuck the warmth. She was used to the cold.
She left the room silently, closing the door behind her and walking barefoot along the corridor. The manor was quiet, save for the audible spraying of the fountain and the occasional snips of conversations among servants. She found herself in the dining area and nodded in response at the various good mornings of the maids hustling around.
Four years. She had been living in the Yukihara's residence for four years. If the servants seemed to mind, they didn't show. They acted polite and civil, always greeting her and attending to her needs. She once walked in on a conversation and immediately they halted, offering her forced smiles. She had a distinct feeling she wouldn't want to hear what they were saying, and walked away.
"I take it that Papa left already?" A woman in her late twenties winced at the term, but nodded repeatedly after. She scuttled away.
Hotaru sat on the 12-seater table and stared at the variety of dishes before her. Stacks of pancakes dripping with chocolate syrup, noodles of two kinds, ham sandwiches, sushi and crabsticks, fried chicken, and braised meat. On the side was a cup of rice.
Five years ago it could've fed Hotaru's brother and the six other orphans living with them in the small hut under the bridge. Five years ago it could've fed her father to his fullest and killed him; that he could not have sold off six of his 'children'. Five years ago Hotaru would not have been alone.
But five years was a long time, countless changes have taken place since. Five years was too long a time to change a person.
Hotaru grabbed a fork but felt like not eating anymore. A maid rushed by.
"Misaki, did anyone call while I was asleep?" She asked suddenly, startling the woman. The maid tried for a smile.
"Just the usual, Miss." Hotaru's chest tightened.
"The usual?"
"Er… Sir Natsume calling if someone… came back." The maid bowed stiffly and hurried away, clutching the basket in her arms tightly. Hotaru felt something stab her chest repeatedly; her eyes stung. She reached for the fork once more and grabbed at the plates viciously, stuffing whatever she can into her mouth.
After a few bites, everything tasted salty, but she just kept on; open, chew, swallow. Open, chew, swallow. Open, chew, swallow.
She was going to take whatever she can.
"Mikan, you get home late recently. Is there something… the matter?" The seventy-eight years old landlord peered at her worriedly over the counter. Home. Mikan smiled at the word.
"Nothing, nothing! Worry not, for I am the Mighty Mikan!" She voiced deeply and posed; the bags she was quivering. As if on cue, heavy footsteps rounded the corner.
"Ma-ma-Mighty Mikan-nee is here! I won't fear!" A chubby four-year old launched himself against Mikan's legs they stumbled backwards.
"Taiga! How many times have I told you not to pound your big, heavy feet on the floor boards?" The landlord reprimanded affectionately. Taiga stretched his left hand and counted.
"One, two, three… four!" He held up his fingers. Mikan chuckled while the landlord face-palmed.
"That's because you can only count up to four!" She reasoned. Taiga pouted and shot the landlord a look.
"Many. You told me many times." Mikan burst into laughter and patted his head. He beamed and let go, running back to the call of his mother. They watched him disappear around the corner.
"Tamaki, Ruka, and Sumire visited a while ago. And of course… Tamaki left you this." He handed her a folded paper and chuckled. Mikan took it wordlessly with her spare hand; rolling her eyes.
"Alright. You better take care of yourself kid! With all your part-time jobs…" Mikan was already four steps up the creaky stairs when she glanced back hesitantly.
"Did someone… call?"
"No one, kid. No one." The old man smiled at her gently, and she tried her best to return it, but to no avail.
Her apartment wasn't much, but it was enough. She turned the key and opened the door, revealing a battered couch and a small table. There was a small kitchen inside and an equally small, but tidy comfort room. The bedroom was just at the end of the corridor, the door chipped and faded.
The apartment was simple and decent. And cheap. It was perfect.
Mikan moved inside the room and set down the groceries on the kitchen counter. After placing that week's food supply into their proper places, she collapsed on the couch and set down her worn backpack, heavy with readings and books. She sighed.
"Three years now, isn't it?" She spoke to the empty room. The walls seemed to close down around her; the air felt too thick to breathe. She closed her eyes, and immediately, images flashed.
"Here. Your father told me to tell you that you're free now." The woman, his father's new secretary held out a black credit card to her. She stared.
"I don't need that." The woman raised an eyebrow.
"You do, and you will. Take it and go on." She spoke, insisting and forced the card on her hand before turning. It felt cold to her touch. Felt too familiar.
"It's not that long. I can make it." She opened her eyes and stood up, retrieving a small box from the fridge. She set it on the table, a lone, chocolate cupcake sitting on faded and scratched furniture.
Mikan stared.
"Happy Birthday." She stepped back and turned off the light.
What do you think about Kira and Koko? How do you feel about Hotaru? Is Natsume really naïve? Is Mikan being too stubborn?
Who has it worse, Mikan or Hotaru?
Most of the things are implied. If you have any questions, message me. :)
Y.M.H.O