viii. Provoke

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Mikan figured Natsume Hyuuga's company was more easily endured when in a slight state of inebriation.

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"And now, my dear guests, please all sit down. Dinners is being served." The host, Narumi Anju, fashionably eccentric, smiled overly gracious, and pointed redundantly at the bountiful table. He was accepted by society because he was known for his hospitality and his much sought-after dinner invitations. His lavish soirees and dinner party were legendary, and invited were only society's wealthiest, prettiest, cleverest, most-admired gentlemen and -women. Mr. Anju's eccentricity was shrugged off and tolerated, and he never disappointed when it came to creating scandals and generating gossip. He also never disappointed when it came to spreading gossip, because he was known for being a bit of a tattletale. No one could deny, however, that he was a splendid host, and had, in fact, an impeccable talent for hosting events.

Due to his popularity and eccentricity, Mikan was a bit surprised to find herself attending one of his exclusive dinner parties. Her father was at home, not feeling well, and her usual chaperone was out of town. So Mikan went all alone (though she knew that might be frowned upon), so as not to affront Narumi Anju. Mikan soon came to regret her decision, however, standing all alone in a quiet corner, sipping her second glass of punch. She knew it was a bad idea to drink this much, but she was mortified enough as it was, not having anyone to talk to, and she wanted to uphold the appearance of doing something. Anything.

She was glad now that dinner was being served and she would have someone to talk to. She hoped she would wind up sitting next to a nice old lady, though Mikan suspected that wasn't very likely. As she went looking for the place cart with her name on it she was suddenly ambushed by the giddy host, who linked their arms and pulled her enthusiastically close to his side.

"Miss Sakura, we have hardly had the opportunity to talk tonight! How unfortunate! We shall have to fix that, don't you think? Oh now, that's not where you will be sitting. Come with me, you shall sit close to me, my lamb."

Overwhelmed, Mikan let him drag her away, to the end of the large dining table, where he placed her in front of her place cart, and sat her down in her chair. He sat down at the table's end, where he could overlook the proceedings taking place to his left and right. To Mikan's relief and shock, she found herself the object of Mr. Anju's interest and answered each of his question obediently. He was just about to inquire about her favorite book, when the chair opposite Mikan's, which had been vacated until now, was being pulled back and occupied by a person.

Mikan looked up and her face froze. Much to her luck, it was Natsume Hyuuga who had sat down and now was staring across the table at her. If his glare was anything to go by, he was feeling especially hostile today. Mikan had made some enquiries since their last encounter and could now put a name to his face. Her lips thinned as his patented smirk slid into place.

"Miss Sakura! What a pleasure!" he exclaimed smoothly, lying straight through his teeth, Mikan was sure. "Oh, the pleasure's all mine, Mr. Hyuuga." she lied right back, coldly, not pleased at all, matching him lie for lie. She deliberately emphasized his name, to let him now she had asked about him.

"Oh.", cooed Narumi Anju, delighted by their exchange and completely oblivious to the belligerent tension between them. "I didn't know you two were acquainted! How lucky then, that I seated you two across from one another! To let you two in on a little secret, I quite enjoy playing matchmaker every now and then, and I'm afraid you two are my latest victims. Aren't you two a lovely pair! I'll say!" He was positively sparkling, gracing them with a beaming smile.

Mikan forced an equally bright smile onto her face, and shot Natsume an icy glare first opportunity she got. They engaged in a staring match for several minutes, both with narrowed eyes, unwilling to be the one to break the tension and back down.

"I see you have gone through the strain of gathering information about my person." he broke the silence, at last. "I have erred, I see. You're not completely oblivious to propriety. I am impressed, Miss Sakura!"

"Not as impressed as I am, I assure you, Mr. Hyuuga. You're ego is clearly even more enormous than I thought. Perhaps not even the sky might match it in its magnitude. I confess, I am impressed that you have the modesty to admit it when you're in the wrong." Mikan snapped, throwing politeness and subtlety to the wind.

His eyes narrowed into slits and Mikan picked up her glass of punch to take a huge gulp, emptying it. She waved for a server to bring her another one. She was becoming tipsy, had lost count on how much exactly she had been drinking, but Mikan figured Natsume Hyuuga's company was more easily endured when in a slight state of inebriation.

The evening continued to be painful and awkward; Mikan refused to engage in a conversation with her disagreeable opponent, instead indulging in the company of the much more agreeable punch.

As dessert was being served, and Mr. Anju informed her of the merits of the newest French fashion trend, Mikan mumbled an excuse along the lines of needing to powder her nose, and abruptly got up, completely disregarding the valet who had just appeared with a new tray of punch by her side. The tray fell from his hands and the content spilled all over Mikan's yellow, silken dress (which was last season anyway), turning the fabric an ugly shade of orange-tinted pink.

Mikan took no notice of it. Grabbing her own glass, she waltzed out of the room, slightly swaying, her head held high, trying not to sway too obviously. Mikan was glad to be out of the hot, sweet-scented air of the saloon, and made her way to the antechamber, where her reticule was laying, because she had forgotten it there earlier.

Taking one look of herself in the mirror that was mounted to the wall, she groaned. Her face was flushed and her eyes glassy, making her look feverish, and her complicated hair-do had partly come undone. Her dress was soaked and hung from her tiny frame, the sweet liquid adding to its weight: she looked a right mess. Sighing, she tried to fix her hair, but it ended up looking even worse. Tired, her feet aching in their tight shoes, she sat down on a chaise longue and closed her eyes, hoping for a few minutes of soothing silence.

Alas, they were not granted her.

"Are you quite asleep?", asked a snide voice. Mikan didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was. "Am I interrupting your cozy nab?"

"Yes, you are. Please, don't strain yourself trying to make me feel miserable by initiating a painfully dull conversation, which unfortunately appears to be your speciality. It pains me to say, but I find your voice quite grating, my dear. I'd very much prefer to be left alone. Would you do me the favor? I would be ever so thankful to you." she told him, curtly.

Expecting him to leave, she was surprised when she heard his voice close to her ear. She shot up, eyes flying upon, her arms flinging. Natsume crouched next to the chaise longue on the floor, watching her closely, invading her privacy, which did not sit well with Mikan.

"You are indeed a peculiar woman, Miss Sakura." he mused, looking thoughtful. She was long past the point of niceties now, annoyed by his antics, and desperately wanted him to leave her alone.

"Could you just leave me in the comfort my own company now, please? Just...please? You are an insufferable chap, and I advise you to spend your company with someone who enjoys it. I am tired of your games and your pathetic attempts at getting to me. You can try to provoke me as much as you like, but you won't be succeeding. Your endeavors are miserable and pathetic. Do I have to be much clearer than that? I cannot stand you, nor your inflated ego! Good day!" He made to say something but Mikan narrowed her eyes, and didn't give him the chance to by saying "Do I have to get much cleared than that? I want you to piss off!"

Natsume Hyuuga had the decency to looked abashed, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh, you make your standpoint quite clear, my dear, but provoking you is such fun!"

"'My dear', my ass." she murmured and smirked when she caught a glimpse of Hyuuga's scandalized expression. In the countryside, girls knew how to properly curse and Mikan wasn't above that.

As her head started throbbing, she knew, this evening wouldn't get much better. On top of everything else, she really didn't need to deal with a headache on top of everything else now too.

She got up, breezed past Natsume Hyuuga and back into the saloon. She ignored all the curious gazes she felt lingering on her and told the host quietly that she wasn't feeling well, asking to be excused, her ill put together appearances certainly supporting her plea. He was seemingly devastated and insisted that she stay at least until she'd dance one dance with him. She agreed reluctantly, not wanting to anger or offend him, and hoped this hell would be over soon.

"You are a very good dancer, Miss Sakura." Mr. Anju complimented her, lying through his teeth. Mikan was well aware that she was not a very accomplished nor skilled dancer. But she appreciated him trying to make her feel better. He had been concerned she wasn't enjoying the evening he had planned. She rushed to assure him that it was all due to a headache she was suffering from, and that her bad mood stemmed from worry over her father. Her host was a real gentleman, not even commenting on her ruined dress, even though she supposed it insulted his fashion sense.

After the dance, Mikan wanted to leave immediately, but he got her to promise to dance one more dance and he would pick her partner. Mikan didn't even care at this point and just wanted to leave, so she agreed, praying he wouldn't choose Natsume Hyuuga.

Of course, he did.

Her lips pursed, she took his hand and let him escort her to the dance floor. "Let's just get it over with." she told him. Tired as she was, she didn't even make an effort any more to look gracious while dancing, letting him lead her. Her head hurt, the punch finally beginning to take effect, and she felt nauseous.

"I'm surprised Mr. Anju even extended an invitation to you. Aren't you? Well, considering what a spectacle you always make of yourself, it's not that surprising. He must never have met some one quite like you. No taste, no grace, bad upbringing, and no connections, and stemming from a low-bred family to boot. I reckon he must have felt a right sense of curiosity."

Soon enough, Mikan got sick of Natsume Hyuuga's annoying voice droning in the background, and decided to end his never-ending stream of condescending comments and insults right then and there, so stopped in her tracks, even though the dance wasn't yet over.

"You know what, Natsume bloody Hyuuga, just piss off! Get lost! I can't even find it in me to care. God, don't even think about ever talking to me again! I'm leaving."

And she did.

A/N: I don't like it much, but I guess it's okay. Hope the dialogue and writing are not too stilted. Tbh, I kind of enjoy writing like a pompous ass, lol. I wrote this piece months ago, probably around January, but only got around to posting it now. Sorry I didn't update last month, I was too spent, and didn't come around to it. Thanks to all the reviewers; feedback is always appreciated as you all know, and I hope you continue to enjoy my little drabbles and one-shots.