Chapter III: Dare You to Move

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?

(Switchfoot)

Takahashi speaks up on Hatsuni-Hyuuga rumors

While Sora Takahashi, 54, is no stranger to gossip as a man of wealth and power, the attention towards him has doubled since his marriage to supermodel and socialite Yura Hatsuni Takahashi, 27. Hatsuni herself gave an exclusive interview a little more than a month ago following a breakdown due to the stress the marriage has brought on her. Although her camp insists the divorce is due to irreconcilable differences, recent news beg to differ.

Yesterday, rumors sprung that Hatsuni may be dating very single, very handsome lawyer, Natsume Hyuuga, 32, from Alice Law Firms, who currently acts as her legal counsel for the divorce. They were seen purchasing rings at KOI•ZUMI DESIGNS. While Hatsuni is wealthy in her own right, her divorce is rumored to cost her at least $1.6 million- so how can she afford any luxury right now?

This is answered by another source who confirmed that Hyuuga is handling her divorce pro-bono, despite specializing in corporate cases himself.

"They met at his cousin's grand opening party," another source shares, who claimed to have been invited in the same exclusive invite-only party to Sumire Shouda's recent clothing line. "I guess it was instant attraction."

The Star intercepted Takahashi after a business dinner at Ise Sueyoshi in Minato. When asked how he feels about the whole world knowing about his divorce before he did, he only has this to say: "There's only so much you can do."

When further prodded about his thoughts regarding the Hatsuni-Hyuuga rumors, he admits, "My lawyer instructed me to not make comments, but Hyuuga should expect to be served this week."

Hyuuga has yet to comment about the allegations.

According to the most recent financial report, Takahashi is worth $4.9billion. He owns properties in East Asia and South America among his business ventures. He currently resides in Tokyo.

Mikan tried to lie, she really did, but there was something intimidating about being shoved in a corner dressing room with an insistent five-foot-two and her iron grip, particularly one that has been generously providing you food and shelter for the last two weeks.

Earlier, Mikan chose from a selection of lies and picked out what she hoped was the best one- love at first sight, pfft- and adopted what she hoped was a genuine expression. But this was Aoi, who listened to her tell stories of how she'd been living independently since leaving home, Aoi who pretended she didn't know what Mikan meant when she'd receive a 20% tip or a small gift somewhere in her apron pocket, Aoi who was there to hold her when she found out Mikan was celebrating her birthday on the day of her father's death anniversary.

But because Natsume warned her that he has to write a contract- as lawyers are wont to do with every goddamn decision in their life- she limited the truth.

"Shut up," Aoi gasped, playfully slapping Mikan with the sleeves of a two-toned cashmere sweater, "You are not dating my brother. You're lying!"

"That's not really something anyone would want to lie about," Mikan muttered. "Sure, he looks nice, but you remember how he was like the first time we met. What a charmer."

"Yeah, which makes this thing so weird," Aoi almost laughed. "Okay, so that's why you went out with him the other night? What, did a discussion of the h-o-u-s-e lead to a date? Did you kiss? Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Sort of…" her voice trailed, then saw Aoi's pupils dilate. "Not the nonexistent kiss. The date. Sort of."

"That explains the text then," Aoi mumbled, more to herself.

"What text?"

"He told me to drop by the cafe after you work and to get us something nice to wear for dinner. He doesn't usually condone me buying clothes I don't wear when I have my uniform on half the time."

"Dinner? What dinner?"

"My parents' anniversary dinner. It's usually just family and some friends, but they want to celebrate the new merger thing. That's why they've been out of town for weeks, remember? It's great that he's asked you to come, it'd be less boring now!"

Mikan froze. Natsume did not say anything about the dinner. In fact, all they talked about last night, after he practically shoved her in front of the fireplace, covered in a bunch of thick blankets, was why she was barely clothed during a snowfall.

So she told him.

Mikan told him the story of a nineteen-year-old girl so overworked that she was found motionless at the back of a medical clinic, just after carrying three sacks of trash to the alley dumpster. She woke up in a hospital room hours later, hovered by a worried colleague who didn't even know her last name. Since she was uninsured, she was forced to shoulder 80% of her medical bills, with her employer paying for 20% out of pity. The same coworker suggested the money lending services of a tall, red-haired man named Reo Mouri who was only too happy to oblige in exchange for a certain interest rate that doubled every week it was unpaid.

And Mikan was currently 3,760,000 yen in debt.

In hindsight, Reo was relatively nicer than an average loan shark. He never really demanded payment until it was a month overdue, and would be appeased by whatever payment claimed, even half the amount. But she was so insistent in staying in Tokyo regardless of how expensive it was and given that she'd been getting by with one job, paying the loan with its doubled interest proved to be difficult unless she made another loan, trapping herself into a vicious cycle.

Natsume spent a good chunk of an hour lecturing her, and the remaining time spent discussing how he was going to handle the situation. He offered to sue, as Reo was an unlicensed lender, but she told him she was going to decide after visiting Kuma.

Just before she and Aoi headed to the mall, Mikan asked if they could drop by her old apartment to pick up the things she left that morning before going to work; she couldn't tell Aoi the real reason, at least not yet.

Kuma was a little annoyed having been disturbed from his late afternoon nap, but he was safe and that was what mattered. The night before, he told Reo that she moved out without paying or telling him, and then asked if Reo was there to pay her unpaid dues. Even though Kuma (begrudgingly) insisted that, given she was definitely kicked out, there was no need to pay for the outstanding balance, but before she left Mikan tucked the envelope she'd been carrying last night under the lamp on his dresser.

That was also why, despite spending the last half hour in a high street clothing store, Mikan's arms were noticeably empty.

Aoi was already fitting a white open-back blouse when she realized that Mikan had been doing nothing but pop in and out to give comments about the clothes she fitted. "Aren't you going to buy anything?" she asked.

"I have a dress in my bag," Mikan shrugged. "I don't really need a new one."

"Of course you don't need a new one, but you have to have one. Besides, it doesn't sit well with me that you're just looking around when I'm buying stuff. I've got this. Or, well, Natsume's got this," Aoi corrected herself, giving Mikan a sly wink.

Mikan pursed her lips, trying to figure out the best way to turn down the offer. "I know I probably sound like a broken record but I can't take more of it, you guys have literally spent too much on me already. That doesn't sit well with me."

Aoi sighed deeply. She understood where Mikan was coming from, of course, though obviously not from experience. Mikan was never an excessive person, she lived well within her means (sometimes even lesser than that) and wasn't used to accepting favors from people. The only reason she even agreed to spend a few days at the Hyuuga's was because she was desperate and the offer of heat and comfort was too much to pass up.

"Think of it as a belated birthday present," Aoi offered with a smile. "Your last one- and then no more purchases, no more free stuff. Pinky swear."

Having spent most of his life as Natsume's best friend, Ruka was one of the few who could confidently say that he would never be rendered surprise by anything Natsume did- not when he skipped to Sweden for three months right out of college, opting out of graduation rites and narrowly missing the first week of law school; not when he decided against working as a summer intern at Alice Law and instead applied at the prosecutor's office; not when he agreed to defend a company that filed a case against Igarashi Holdings' biggest shareholder, even at the risk of facing the board's wrath.

So when Natsume told him his plan, Ruka couldn't say he was surprised. It wasn't something Natsume would have convoluted but as something he'd agree to.

"How do you plan to convince her," were Ruka's first words. Not "That's a stupid idea" or "This will bite you in the ass" or even "Are you high?" (though the last one was more difficult to resist). Natsume gave a vague admission, to which Ruka agreed to. After all, Mikan could always employ the help of another investigator to help her with her mother, and after several years of making friends and enemies in the corporate world, someone out there was sure to be willing to get Natsume a taste of his own medicine by making sure he didn't get the house. After debunking offered solutions and dissecting them one by one, Natsume gave up and said he was going to handle it.

Ruka found him waiting by the entrance, admitting people to the party. The 100-person function room was lavish, expensive, and had Kaoru Igarashi written all over. With a casual tug at his tie, Ruka headed for his best friend, currently making conversation with a middle-aged woman covered in fur and diamonds.

"Ruka," Natsume said, his relief unmistakably apparent to someone who's known him for years. "Excuse me, Mrs. Saito, but I have to talk to my friend. Work, you see." As soon as they were away, Natsume rasped, "I swear she just pinched my ass."

"You didn't enjoy it? That's a first." Ruka coughed through his fist with a depraved grin, ignoring Natsume's wry expression. "Your date?"

"Arriving in a while. Think I should've warned my parents?"

"You've never cared about opinions before, why start now?"

"Point taken," said Natsume. He glanced down at his watch. "Is Imai coming?"

"The woman wouldn't pass up the chance to meet potential clients that'd further her billable to ours. Of course she'd be here."

"Then we have a problem because she doesn't know."

"Should she?" asked a skeptical Ruka. "It's not like Imai will rat you out. 'Natsume's marrying a twenty-one-year-old to convince everyone he's got his shit together' doesn't sound very convincing."

"So is marrying someone," Natsume dropped his voice, "To provide monetary support."

Ruka's back straightened; his eyes darted sideways, checking if someone was within hearing. "You offered her money?" It wasn't that far-fetched of an idea, and if he were honest, Ruka thought that was Natsume's initial proposition.

"Not me. She did," Natsume corrected. He moved to fix the cuffs of his shirt to throw off any suspicion that they were talking about something they didn't want heard. "She's in some sort of a financial bind. Guy by the name Reo Mouri."

"How much does she owe?"

"Enough for her to want to agree on a convenient marriage."

A lot then, Ruka thought. "Is she filing against him?"

"We'll know tonight. Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?" Natsume gave him a dry look and held out his hand expectantly. Ruka pulled out a silver ring from his inside jacket pocket, the band hanging by a thin chain. It had a small oval gemstone that went against Natsume's precise instructions to keep it simple.

"What's this?" he asked, squinting at the rock. It was deep red hue in color, cut in a flower dome. While not extravagant enough to warrant a second look, it wasn't something he specifically included in his request.

"It's a garnet stone," Ruka announced quite proudly.

"How much did it cost?"

Ruka regarded him exasperatedly. "Natsume, if you want to look sincere in marrying her, you should at least know when her birthday is."

"I know when her birthday is. I just didn't think it'd be important to display it on a ring. Never mind, my parents are here." With one smooth movement he passed the ring back to Ruka and instructed him to meet up with Aoi and Mikan before they joined the party. He addressed his parents, "Happy anniversary. I see your hands are full. Do you need help?"

Ioran Hyuuga glanced down at the gifts on his lap. There were four boxes of different sizes, elegantly wrapped and tied with satin bows. "I think we should put the wheelchair to good use." With a gentle hand, Kaoru patted her husband on the shoulder, an admonishing look on her face. Ioran gave a short chuckle. "I can make jokes about myself."

"Yes, but it might make other people comfortable," Kaoru reproached.

"Why would it make them comfortable? I'm the one in a wheelchair."

"Come on, guys," Natsume interrupted. "I just asked about the presents."

"Where's yours?" Ioran shot back.

"I didn't- oh, there she is. Mother. Father. I want you to meet someone."

Aoi had to slyly push Mikan forward, almost causing her to trip on her toes. Mikan turned back to scowl at her friend, who merely stared back with a pair of too-innocent eyes. Mikan focused her attention to a waiting Natsume, impulsively reaching for the jewelry hanging around the neck.

Ioran threw his wife a meaningful look.

"This is Mikan," Natsume introduced her, his hand warm and gentle on her lower back.

Thirteen Hours Ago

As soon as Mikan changed into something warmer, she walked over to the kitchen, where Natsume was sitting on a swivel chair by the bar. She accepted his offer of oolong tea and breathed in its rich taste.

He was first to speak. "You ready to tell me why you're agreeing?" He asked through the silence, eyes calculating and observant of every movement. "I seem to recall you saying me that unless I tell you, specifically, what's in it for me-"

"I need four million."

If Natsume was surprised by the demand, he didn't show it. Whether he expected the request or four million hardly made a dent in his finances, Mikan wasn't sure. "That's not what I had in mind."

"Neither did I, but I-" she took a deep breath, "I need it. And I need to make sure that whoever's looking for me won't find me."

"How can you be sure he won't find you here?"

She shut her eyes. Here it goes, she thought. "Because you're a lawyer, and I'm running away from a loan shark."

"Ah," he said, nodding. There was still no trace of emotion or judgment on his face. "Money and protection. Desperate?"

"Very," Mikan finally groaned. She laid her head against the bar. "I could be risking someone else's life. You think that's something I want hanging over my head? No!"

"Aside from that, any other requests?"

She peeked through her laden arms. He remained expressionless. "That's it?"

"I didn't agree."

"You didn't object, either. And anyway, don't give me that I don't agree crap. You need me just as I need you."

"True, but I want to know how much you need me."

She hesitated for a heartbeat, her back now straight. She didn't really think about it, before coming over. Heck, she didn't even know what to expect, coming over. She just wanted to get somewhere safe. "My mother. I'm… I'm not done looking for her. I need to find her. Whatever you want me to do, whatever role you want me to play… I just- I can't give up, Natsume." Even when she gave me up. "If you help me, and we're done, I won't bother you again, ever. You don't have to worry about me demanding- I don't know, compensation for emotional distress, or money, or even this stupid, big house I can't afford… Just her."

He nodded once; Mikan wanted investigative research for an unattested house. That was a fair deal, seeing as what she was demanding was far less than how much he'd have to spend should she pushed for her rights to the estate.

He pointed this out, receiving only a shrug and a sniff in return. "It doesn't matter now," Mikan told him. "We can figure out the gritty details next time." As if on cue, she gave a silent yawn.

"You should rest," Natsume suggested, getting down from the stool.

She didn't object. It had been quite a rollercoaster of a day, and even that was an understatement. From Hī, to Kuma, to Reo, to Natsume. She couldn't stand another prolonged conversation about how screwed up her life was. "I'll take the couch," she volunteered.

"Before you leave-" he held a finger, stopping her on her tracks. He grabbed a piece of paper from a drawer and started writing. "Sign this."

She sighed. "I'm not going to run away. I'm a twenty-one-year-old waitress. My mind doesn't work like yours." He didn't say anything, just signed his name at the bottom and pushed it towards her. With an eye roll, she neatly wrote down her name in a neat scrawl. "Happy?"

"One more thing. You're not taking the couch."

Present

Mikan furtively wiped her shaking, sweaty palms before extending one for a handshake. Looking at Kaoru Hyuuga, Mikan immediately knew where Natsume got it from. The way she stood was indicative of good upbringing with a hint of self importance. If that weren't any indication, she was impeccably garbed in a cobalt sheath dress, the cap sleeves ending just a few inches from her shoulder, and with an expensive strand of round, lustrous akoya pearls around her neck.

Ioran, on the other hand, looked far more approachable but moved with precision. His salt and pepper hair was combed neatly towards the back of his head, exposing his wrinkles that were results from both stress and aging. He accepted Mikan's handshake but his face was reminiscent of Natsume's calculating look from the night before. There was an exchange of polite words mixed with mindless teasing and can-you-nots, and then it was over.

"You said no more presents," Mikan accused Aoi. Just as soon as they stepped out of the elevator, Ruka practically shoved the jewelry under her nose, but before she could say anything, the necklace was already clasped around her neck and Natsume's parents were already on her.

"Don't look at me. That's from Natsume. Besides, I can't afford a ring like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Have you had pufferfish before?"

"Yes," she deadpanned. "Every other day, in fact."

"Good," Aoi said, too distracted to mind the sarcasm. "I hope you brought your appetite because I'm not hanging by the buffet table alone."

Mikan had to ask thrice to clarify what the party really was for and how many people were expected, for although she was in an orphanage most of her life where certain milestones couldn't afford to be celebrated, surely food for 100 people was too much for a crowd of 50.

"My parents are very particular with comfort," Aoi explained. She had been unselfishly dispensing Mikan with stories and explanations all evening since Natsume was always flanked by a person or two. "They're a go big or go home type of people when it comes to being hospitable. Not that they care about, you know, superficial things like image… they're just accommodating, sometimes bordering on indulgent. He doesn't look like it, but Natsume's like them in that regard. He's always going on about banning me from his apartment before, but he never did. He even made sure there was always food in the pantry."

"So your parents spend money feeding people who can feed themselves?"

Aoi paused and laughed. "Didn't think of it that way. Natsume, nice of you to join us."

Natsume gave his sister a sardonic smile, his hands resting on Mikan's back. "Business," he replied curtly, as if one word warranted his absence for the past half hour.

"As much as I prefer Mikan's company over anyone else, I think I should point out that she's your date, not mine."

"I didn't say anything like that," Mikans said hurriedly. The last thing she needed was for Natsume to assume she couldn't handle herself in a party. Not being able to manage her finances and having to call for help was humiliating enough. She didn't need additional proof of her incompetence as a supposed adult.

"She didn't need to," Aoi countered, adding to Mikan, "Don't worry. He's never dated someone younger than him before. That's why he's not used to being in charge outside of work."

"Aoi," Natsume warned, throwing a meaningful glare.

"Ah, now it's sounding more like a party," Mikan joked, pretending to be overly interested. "Do tell."

Before Aoi had the chance to heed the request, Natsume already spun Mikan around and led her to a table, one that sat Ruka and Hotaru.

"Are we doing this here already?" Mikan asked. It wasn't that she didn't want to make it official just yet, but she didn't think this was the place to sign a contract. Plus, she was hoping they did in somewhere more private- without Hotaru or Ruka, for example.

"Do what?" Hotaru intruded, though her attention was on the assortment of sushi a waitress was offering her. She popped a tobiko on her mouth.

"I'm steering you away from my potential embarrassment," Natsume confessed. He pulled her a seat next to Hotaru and sat on her other side. "You're also helping me prevent these two from killing each other."

"He's not going to kill me," Hotaru demurred. She gestured for a waiter to refill her glass. "He doesn't have the spine."

Ruka took umbrage at the patronizing assumption. "I'll have you know-"

"Children," Natsume interrupted, then added to Mikan, "Why am I always breaking up fights?"

"Probably because no one wants to pick a fight with you," Mikan guessed in her attempt to be humorous. "You're a sore loser."

Hotaru snickered. "Smart girl."

Aoi returned with her plate mostly laden with sashimi and temaki. Natsume moved to reach for a pink, buttery buri but Aoi blocked his chopsticks with hers, her nose flaring at her brother. He frowned but went for a thin, fatty slice of suzuki instead but the effort was proved futile against Aoi's fast fingers.

"Oh, come on," Natsume complained, "You don't even like sea bass!"

"No, but Mikan does, don't you?" Aoi's eyes were wide and warning so Mikan stuttered a hasty affirmation and popped the soft, white flesh on her mouth. Aoi grinned triumphantly. "See? I got this for her."

Natsume merely rolled his eyes; as he did, they landed on the albacore belly on Hotaru's plate.

She automatically blocked his line of vision. "Don't even think about it."

"You think you'd at least get some perks for paying for the party," Natsume grumbled, before standing up himself to grab some food.

"He paid for this?" Mikan asked. "All of it?"

Ruka smiled a bit sheepishly for his friend's sake. "Natsume's not good with gifts. This, he thinks, is more practical and reduces the chance of giving a bad one."

"He got me a fountain pen-" Aoi paused dramatically, "For my sixth birthday. He was in his twenties, I think, had this nice suit and all, but then I came running towards him for a hug, I tripped and his precious pen exploded. You could imagine how that was like." Aoi regarded Ruka thoughtfully. "I think Ruka has a photo of that."

Ruka shook his head and nodded towards Hotaru. "Probably has it framed, too, or put in an album," he joked.

"You're not that important," said Hotaru.

"I didn't say it was me."

"I was referring to the both of you," she replied with ease. Hotaru turned to Mikan. "So when he does something- anything- that undermines your agreement, I'd be glad to share a photo or two. At a price."

"Agreement?" Aoi echoed, her eyebrows furrowed in question. "What agreement?"

Mikan tensed and looked away; Ruka, food halfway to his mouth, almost dropped the unagi in surprise.

"How do you know?" Natsume demanded, hearing the last leg of the conversation.

"That you're dating?" Hotaru replied, looking at him straight in the eye. Mikan released the breath she was holding but Natsume and Ruka, who knew Hotaru for years, knew that she, for some reason, found out about the agreement. "Please. You don't take anyone to family affairs."

"Not even his previous girlfriends?" Mikan wondered, a bit relieved that Hotaru didn't know the truth. Mikan didn't need anyone else judging her, despite how desperate she was.

"His previous girlfriends weren't interested in being introduced to family," Hotaru supplied, a vile, suggestive tone on her voice.

"Imai, I swear-"

"What? She's bound to find out sooner or later," she scoffed.

"Find out about what?" Mikan wanted to know- mainly to shift any assumptions from her- after all, it was uncomfortable (and a tad annoying) when everyone knew something you didn't- but whatever it was had to wait because Ioran had taken over the microphone in front to give a customary thank you speech.

The party was ending early, Natsume explained under his breath as they politely clapped along, because there were guests who drove far, even flew, just for tonight. Good, long-time friends who stood by his parents when they started what they had today. Though his explanations were brief and simple, Mikan could understand that he greatly admired Ioran and Kaoru, not just because they gave birth to him.

They were among the few to leave last; Mikan relayed her thanks towards Natsume's parents for having her (only realizing two sentences later that Natsume practically ambushed them with her), politely agreed to coming over for tea one of these days (despite her wishes against agreeing because surely a retired lawyer and an astute businesswoman can spot a lie when it's eating scones in front of them?), and followed Natsume down the hotel lobby. They stood by waiting for Oishi to bring the car around but it seemed, though the party has ended, their night was just starting.

Oishi was driving Aoi back home so Natsume and Mikan joined Ruka in his sedan. Hotaru opted out of the twenty-minute road trip to drive her own car.

"Maybe we should've asked her to join Imai," Ruka mused out loud.

Natsume glanced at Mikan through the rearview mirror. "Imai can keep up."

"What's going on?" She leaned towards the middle of the car. "I thought we were- well, doing the thing?"

"That's what Ruka and Imai will help us with," Natsume explained. "We need legal counsels and witnesses."

"And when was I going to be told that they know?"

"I'm telling you now. Ruka, I know it's against your nature to go beyond 25mph but if you want to get there in twenty minutes and not an hour, I suggest you press on the gas."

"Telling the driver what to do isn't among your responsibilities as a shotgunner. Now, I'm pretty sure Mikan has a few questions, why don't you answer them?"

"She doesn't have any-"

"Actually," Mikan interrupted, "Not so much as a question but as a request- no, demand. You have to stop surprising me like that. I deserve to know what's happening. It concerns me too, in case you've forgotten."

"When did I surprise you?" Natsume asked confusedly. "Ruka and Imai? It makes sense we have separate counsels-"

"I get that part, although a warning would've been nice. I meant earlier, when you shoved a ring on my face."

Natsume, still not quite getting it, asked, "You call that a surprise?"

"Some people would assume so," Ruka chimed in.

"More driving, less talking," Natsume demanded, and to Mikan he said, "It was a way of telling my parents. So they'll ask less questions."

"Well, what about my questions?"

"Aren't we answering them now?"

Mikan sighed. It was pretty difficult to talk to Natsume at times, and that was just basing from the few conversations they had since they met. How'd anyone else manage? "Fine, but next time, can I please be part of the decision-making process? Just give me it to me straight. I'm a big girl, I can handle."

"Let's start. You need money."

This evidently ruffled Mikan's feathers. "I know I just asked you but I didn't mean for you to be that direct."

"It's like I never do anything right," Natsume complained to Ruka, who merely grinned in response.

"It's not what you're saying, it's how you're saying them," Mikan admonished him. "But yes, I do need... money." She ended her sentence quietly and with palpable discomfort.

"Not just for the debt," Natsume replied, not noticing her fidgeting, "But with you. Do you have a bank account?"

"No."

"Good, then- wait. You don't?" Natsume spun around his seat to look at her, surprise on his face. "What about your money?"

Mikan patted her purse.

"You keep your money… with you? All the time?"

"It's not like I have a lot of it."

"But…"

She sighed. Rich people don't get it, do they? "Look, I've never had enough to qualify for a bank account- you know, with the maintaining balance, having to make sure there's always money left- so I just put it in the Bank of Mikan. Besides, it's easier to handle everything in cash."

"You've never been robbed?"

"Do I look like the type of person who has money? Even if someone would, the thief would probably return my wallet out of pity."

Natsume exchanged a look with Ruka. "We'll have to set up an account for you," he decided.

"I don't need it."

"It's convenient."

"It's expensive."

"It's not an issue. Next question?"

Mikan scowled. "Why don't you try, I don't know, considering me? When I said I wanted to be part of decision-making, I meant I wanted you to listen to me and to consider what I have to say. You know, not just ask what I want but completely ignore what I feel anyway."

"Natsume," Ruka warned his friend, sparing him a glance. "Mikan's right."

"Ruka," he said, mirroring the almost condescending tone, "You had your own account by middle school."

"That's because it had use to me. If Mikan doesn't want a bank account, we'll allow her to carry three million yen on her purse everyday if she wanted to."

Natsume bit his tongue; behind them, Mikan groaned. "Fine," she relented with grouse, "I get your point. But now I want to wait for Hotaru Imai. I'm not making any more decisions without a buddy."

"Buddy's the last word I would use on Imai," Ruka muttered under his breath.

Mikan didn't have to wait for long because (despite Ruka firmly driving between 25 to 30) they managed to get to the house in just ten more minutes. A disgruntled Hotaru was sitting on her car, parked in front of the gate. The moment they arrived, she loudly honked her car, aptly expressing her irate.

"Couldn't have gone any slower?" she commented dryly just as they filed inside the house.

"We were wondering how you found out before we even told you," Ruka replied. He headed for the kitchen and moved with an ease as if he'd been there before, taking out glasses and coasters from the drawers. "Witchcraft? ESP?"

"I bugged your phones," was Hotaru's blunt response. "How else am I going to become junior partner before you?"

Natsume rolled his eyes. While he didn't believe Imai was the type to do that (he'd like to think so), her ambition had always been clear from day one- way back when they were in law school together.

Ruka didn't let the matter go. "Seriously," he said with a frown, pouring himself a beer. "It's creeping me out. It probably creeps Noda out, too."

"But I'm the one who's not going to court tomorrow."

"You were going to family court," Ruka emphasized.

"What do you have against family court?" Natsume protested, reminding Ruka of the divorce case he was handling.

"Nothing, unless you're heartless. How is this woman going to emancipate a minor from his parents, you think, when what the child needs is to be emancipated from her?"

"Hysterical," Hotatu said in a stoic voice. "Moving on?"

"I drafted the initial contract last night," Natsume started before Ruka could say anything to prolong the less-than-friendly banter. "I listed my parameters and included the ones that I've discussed with Mikan, plus a full disclosure of assets and liabilities, property division, spousal support, a mediation clause, operative event, termination event, and a sunset clause. I didn't bother including independent representation due to obvious reasons."

"The obvious reason being you've completely micromanaged this whole contract and brought me a lawyer only you trust?" Mikan stared back at his surprised face. "You're not the only who's done research."

"I didn't come here by force," Hotaru felt the need to remind. "I'm here on my own volition."

"What am I then, chopped liver?" Ruka gripped. "I thought I was here as counsel?"

"He's right," Hotaru agreed, a rare moment. "Stop controlling everything, Hyuuga. I'll talk to Mikan, you talk to Nogi. Convene in fifteen minutes?"

They took opposite sides of the space; Mikan and Hotaru remained at the bar while Natsume and Ruka walked over to the living room couch.

Hotaru held the copy and said, "First things first, I'm going to want to be compensated for when this falls apart."

Mikan frowned. "How do you know it's going to fail?"

"Because these usually do," Hotaru said simply. "It's nothing personal, before you react. These prenuptial agreements on marriages of convenience have a way of biting you in the ass after. If worse comes to worst, I at least want to get financial compensation out of it."

"Well… I'm sure you've heard but I don't really have any money. That's kind of why I got here in the first place."

"I didn't mean you. I meant Hyuuga. He's going to pay me enough for my junior partnership buy-in. Now, let's focus on the task at hand. Like I said, when this falls apart-"

"If," Mikan corrected. "Client's preference."

One edge of Hotaru's mouth twitched in amusement. "If this falls apart badly, I want you to be compensated. You get the house."

"But I told you, I can't-"

"We'll disclose it. Since he's willing to list it as joint property despite the deed bearing his name, I'm guessing he'd want to do it in the future."

"Why would Natsume do that? I already told him I don't want it."

"Maybe he has feelings. Or maybe he's hoping that disputing over marital property is less expensive than dealing with a missing beneficiary. Since you've spent so much time with him, I'm going to assume you know which one he's likely to do." Hotaru glanced down at the draft again. "He hasn't listed the marital home as up for sale upon the termination event, but in case Nogi urges him to, I want you to get at most 65 percent. It's as much yours as is his."

"If it's technically both ours then why is mine at 65 percent?"

"Because I'm your legal representative. Next, by compensation, I wasn't merely referring to the house. We're going to ask him to give you a share of his stocks."

Mikan, whose knowledge about investment was practically zero (did clothing count?), merely inclined her head, so Hotaru gave a brief explanation. After two many terms she couldn't understand for the life of her, Mikan held up a hand; "What happens if we're done? Natsume and I, I mean."

"Once it's retitled, it's yours. We can request the transfer at predetermined intervals- once every three months? Two months? You'd have to set up a brokerage account, but that's a walk in the park." Hotaru regarded Mikan carefully. "How old are you again?"

"Twenty-one."

"Good. How does a college education sound like?"

Mikan's eyes bulged; "Are you suggesting…?"

Hotaru nodded once, a determined expression on her face (although, Mikan noted, it hardly differed from Hotaru's usual expression). "You can go, if you want. We'll make it happen."

"But where?" Mikan asked, excited but confused. "I mean, would a school even accept me?"

"Why not? You have a high school diploma. You'll get in the same way everybody else does. You can start as soon as April. He pays for the first two academic years."

This time, Mikan appeared doubtful, though not about her skills this time. "Aren't we using too much of Natsume's money?"

"Where else is he going to spend it on? He has no social life."

"Excuse you," Natsume's voice interrupted. They hadn't noticed that the two males were close.

Hotaru didn't seem apologetic at all. She glanced down at her watch and noticed that the fifteen minutes were up. She looked up at Mikan and gave a minute nod- her version of a silent assurance that she wasn't going to lose.

There technically shouldn't be winners or losers in a prenuptial, but to Hotaru Imai, there was always one, and she had never been the latter. This wasn't going to be her first time.

Hotaru and Ruka exchanged draft copies. His fingers absentmindedly edged on his chin, and without looking up, he suggested, "Why don't you two head over outside?"

Natsume looked through the glass wall. It wasn't snowing, but last time he checked it was some negative degrees. "Do we have to?"

"Natsume, it's your fault for getting an open plan. You can complain about your interior design skills to the next person, but Imai and I have some work to do. Besides, knowing you, you'd be butting in every other clause."

With gritted teeth, Natsume followed Mikan towards the entrance, where she was already putting on her coat. They opened the door and found a clenched, gloved fist halfway to the knob.

"Aoi?" Natsume was confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Mikan left her things in the car, so I asked Oishi to come over here so I can drop it off with you. When Mikan said she found alternate living quarters, she meant here?" Neither Mikan nor Natsume said anything. "Isn't this- I don't know- a bit too soon? Living together when you've only just started dating?"

"It's convenient for her," Natsume replied.

"Oh, and it's got nothing to do with you? Aniki, I'm seventeen. I haven't been living under a rock, you know."

Mikan knew her face reflected the gemstone hanging around her neck and can the ground just swallow her now?

Natsume scowled. "That's it. No cable."

"I didn't learn it from cable!" Aoi almost laughed. Instead of just handing over Mikan's things, she went further inside the house, dropped the bags by the door, and headed to the left, where Ruka and Hotaru were. "You guys didn't tell me you were going to continue the party here!"

"We're working," Natsume fibbed. The two other lawyers overturned the drafts as Aoi approached. "Are you going to be here for long?"

"I love how you're so accommodating," Aoi muttered. She grabbed a glass from a drawer and poured herself some cider. "Can I stay over? Mom will just make me clean my room and I'm not really in the mood for that. I'm going to borrow a shirt- no one drinks my cider!" Aoi's voice trailed as she walked towards the hallway.

Ruka asked what they were all thinking: "Should we do this tonight?"

Natsume hesitated. "I guess it can wait tomorrow."

"I have a deposition at ten and a hearing at two," Hotaru said. "Nogi's meeting his new client early in the morning, then he's out at one, back by four. By then you would either be or have already been served."

"Wait," Ruka interjected curiously, "How do you know my schedule?"

"Nogi, you don't have a secretary. Everyone knows your schedule."

"I don't," Natsume caviled.

Hotaru pretended she didn't hear him. "Either we do this now or-"

"What the hell is this?"

The angry, high-pitched shrill that was so unlike its owner had implored everyone to dart their attention towards Aoi. Gone was her usual sweet disposition; instead, she wore a sour expression usually likened to her brother.

Mikan was the one who chose to point out the obvious: "… a piece of paper?

Aoi bristled and slammed the paper against the bar, almost knocking down Natsume's flute. "It's a contract."

"It's just a piece of paper," Mikan said, confused, because the paper was upside down and she couldn't- Oh, she realized, recognizing her signature through the back. That morning, she asked for the copy but forgot to put it back in Natsume's study. Aoi must have seen it lying on the bedside table.

"I've spent years poring over law books when I'm bored," Aoi fumed, "Trust me. I know what a contract looks like even when it's written on a leaf. Is this why you're suddenly dating my brother?"

"I guess we've decided," Hotaru announced before Mikan could reply. "Aoi, sit down and drink your cider. We have a contract to write, and you're going to be our witness."

Hatsuni-Hyuuga: False or Finito?

The other half of the unconfirmed affair attended a private party last night at The Peninsula Tokyo with a noticeably non-celebrity woman by his side.

Last month, Yura Hatsuni broke the internet after an emotional display following her decision to divorce her husband of five years, Sora Takahashi. When Hatsuni and Hyuuga (her lawyer, have we mentioned that?) were photographed coming out of a jewelry store with recently purchased rings, looking way too casual for professional standards, people were quick to ask: are they or aren't they?

However, following these sets of photos of Hyuuga and co., it's safe to say that from this moment on, what everyone wants to know is who his younger, prettier companion is and why does she have a 55,000 ring around her neck that no one just couldn't take their eyes off of?

Here she was seen entering the hotel in a tasteful dress and a pale waterfall coat- but no ring. Five minutes later, she's cozying up to Hyuuga while fingering the ring necklace. Now, it's either Hyuuga makes it a point to offer expensive jewelry to the females in his life or the rumor mill isn't accurate- wouldn't be the first time.

Hyuuga's law firm has so far remained quiet about the dating rumors.

The woman's back was turned when Mikan arrived. While she wasn't sure what Sumire Shouda looked like, there was no one else in the boutique as nicely dressed as the woman was, and judging from how Natsume's family carried themselves outside their homes, there was no doubt Mikan was in the right place.

The boutique was about twice the size of Natsume's office. There were mannequins and rows of clothing, shelves of shoes and bags, three-way mirrors assorted with sparkling jewelry and pretty headwear. There was a counter at the middle of the place, and the woman was talking on the phone.

Though it never bothered her before, Mikan felt incredibly underdressed. She was already in her Hana Hime uniform and ratty pleather boots for her two o'clock shift, so when Natsume told her where she was going that morning, she didn't think what she'd wear would matter.

Now, she thought otherwise.

Mikan cleared her throat to announce her arrival. She approached the counter and heard snippets of the conversation; there was no one else in the boutique after all. The woman turned and quickly assessed her before paging through an emerald day planner.

"Yes, I'll send her back as soon as I can. You can hang up now, Natsume, she's right in front of me. What? Yes, she's alright. No, no one's around. Hang up already."

Sumire put down the phone and wordlessly dodged out of the counter. When she fully faced her, Mikan felt like she was running through an x-ray machine, and with nothing else to do, she returned the favor. Sumire had a slim, editorial model-like figure, wrapped in a grey cape dress worn with a chunky art deco necklace. Her dark, green-tipped hair was cut in a short, angled bob that exposed her sharp beauty bones.

"So, Mikan Sakura?"

She nodded.

"You've met the parents?"

She nodded again. Maybe if she was quick enough she could run a subtle tissue across her shoes for a quick scuff? Only, before she even realized it, the woman was suddenly attacking her with a taping measure. "Wait—"

"Stay put!" Sumire ordered, and Mikan hastily obeyed and stood like a soldier. "So, Mikan Sakura, would you like to tell me why you agreed to my dear cousin's request?"

"What request?" Mikan fibbed. She gasped when the tape measure wrapped around her bust area.

Sumire merely broke into a smile. "I'm Sumire Shouda. It's nice to meet you."

"I'd say it's nice to meet you too, except I'd be lying with your hands all over me."

"Hmm, I like you," Sumire said, her palms making contact with Mikan's hip, looking for her hip bone.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"Bit young, isn't it, to get married so soon? That's cute."

"We're not married." Mikan mumbled. Sumire was measuring her arm.

"I know that." Sumire said nonchalantly. "You don't have a ring, unless you call that tiny thing around your neck one. Tell Natsume to get you a decent ring, or else people will find out."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mikan said hastily.

Sumire shoved the tape measure and the notepad towards Mikan before shuffling through one of the racks. She soon vanished in another row. There was a soft rustle and Sumire appeared again, her hands full of clothes. She pushed Mikan to a dressing room and winked. "Try these out. And don't worry, hun. I can keep a secret. It's safe with me."

"No big deal," Mikan mumbled to herself as she double-checked if the door was shut (because Sumire seemed like the type to barge in unannounced), "It's not like you're the first person that's been told without telling me."

"You're going to need someone to trust," came Sumire's reply, causing Mikan to jump in surprise. She looked around, hands covering her half-naked self. Sumire knocked on the door. "I'm right outside, in case you're wondering if that's a two-way mirror."

"Are you this literally close to all your customers?" Mikan asked, an edge on her voice. She pulled the first item of clothing her hands touched- a mesh fit and flare dress with elbow-length sleeves.

"Just the really special ones," Sumire replied goodnaturedly. "You know, the ones who'll spend millions on your store."

"Shouldn't I be getting the family discount?" Mikan joked as she pulled her arms through the mesh sleeves. She fastened the side zipper, trying to suck her stomach in.

"Not if you're going to take this long in fitting. Is that the mesh dress? How does it look?"

Mikan's eyes darted to the bottom of the door warily. "Are you sure you can't see me?"

"Yes, I'm sure. What I'm not sure of is letting you fit alone because you're taking an awfully long time. Don't you have work in three hours?"

"How long do you expect me to be here?" Mikan got out of the dress and chose the next candidate: a two-piece cream dress with a horsehair-trimmed skirt and deep pockets. It instantly became Mikan's favorite, because who didn't like pockets on their dresses?

Sumire replied nonchalantly, "Oh, I don't know. Long enough to keep you clothed for the next few days. If you're going for a fast engagement, you're going to be visited by a lot- and I mean a lot- of relatives. You don't want to look bad."

"They're not the ones I'm going to be marrying."

"You'd be surprised at how much of a busybody our aunts can be. Besides, I need to make sure of your size. You're not going to want to shop anywhere."

"Let me guess," Mikan drawled sarcastically, "Like your cousin, you think you're the best in the business."

"I know I'm the best, but what I meant is that you wouldn't want anyone else to be poking their noses all over your life. Unless you're into that, of course."

"Believe it or not, I did this to get under the radar."

This warranted a hearty laugh from Sumire, but with the door between them, Mikan wasn't sure if Sumire was laughing at or with her. "Darling, that's the last thing you're going to get."