A/N: i've been working on this chapter for a very long time. that's why it's very long. this is a 22k long chapter lmao. i honestly don't know WHY i made it so long but oh well! this fic is already all planned out, with ten chapters representing ten subjects and ten phases in the aca dec competition. this chapter HAD to be scrimmage and i couldn't cut it in half so... LENGTH. honestly if anybody reads this right away i'll be impressed!

anyway i hope y'all enjoy because oOOF this took me a while to write.


Academic Decathlon Subject III: Mathematics. Calculus, Emphasis on Differential Calculus.

Hyuuga Natsume Decathlon Subject III: Weirdness. Ability to Confuse Me with His Unpredictable Behavior.

Scrimmage


"Hate must make a man productive. Otherwise, one might as well love." -Karl Kraus


Aca Dec class conversations soon became busy and time constrained as September turned into October. Discussions about team shirts and hoodies heated up as they prepared for Scrimmage, where they would be taking practice tests with neighboring schools. The scrimmage scores would impact Narumi's decision on team placements, as well as the speech rough drafts and each Decathlete's personal essay on which team they prefer.

Mikan was starting to get stressed about November. She was studying way more, mainly due to pressure from her friends (though Iinchou seemed more encouraging while Hotaru was just plain threatening). Whenever she'd get overwhelmed with a more challenging subject, she'd return to the safety of the Art curriculum, reviewing familiar concepts and then maybe freaking out whenever she'd realize she'd forgotten a painter's name or an important date.

Natsume's presence in the class was crucial for Mikan, since just looking in his direction was enough to inspire her to fling open her binder and start reading. Once or twice he was absent, and Mikan noticed a significant lapse in motivation. He was often late, and she'd find herself slouching over her binder, struggling to pay attention, glancing over at the door incessantly, until he finally appeared with a half-baked excuse and suddenly the words on the page below her nose would start making sense.

She still hadn't gotten far in The Sun Also Rises, and was mainly relying on SparkNotes to coast by as best she could. She couldn't waste her time reading all that, after all. That would take so much time, and Lang Lit was only one subject and The Sun Also Rises was only one section of Lang Lit anyway. It was better to devote her attention to other things.

Like her speech, which was what she focused on before she went to sleep, researching the scientific side of hatred and famous enemies throughout history. She was taking lots of notes and had learned a lot, but the actual writing wasn't going so well. Everytime she tried to write, it'd come out awkward and forced, and she knew despite the great and unique topic that her actual speech might be destined to be bad.

"Hotaru!" she whined before class.

"What."

She lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned her head against her friend's shoulder. "Write my speech for me. I'll pay you."

Hotaru laughed humorlessly, shrugging so hard that Mikan accidentally bit her lip. "With what money? Some bills you steal from Jii-chan's wallet? Give me a break."

Mikan rubbed at her throbbing lip, peeved. "I have never stolen from Jii-chan… Except for once and I was only borrowing and I really wish you'd both get over it."

"I don't cheat, Mikan. Write your own speech."

"I'll help you out, Mikan, if you need," Iinchou offered helpfully.

Mikan sighed. She was used to being beyond help. Her stupidity would eventually win out over Iinchou's generosity, and the speech would be bad no matter what she tried. "I appreciate it," she said anyway, leaning back in her seat sadly.

Class started with the typical discussion about T-shirts, with Narumi having settled on a printing company. A couple kids in class had finished sketches for the design. Hoshino's was a little rough, Tsubasa's a little edgy, but everyone agreed Ruka's was the best, with its clean lines and strong concept: the shape of a star made of smoking rifles and the vague shape of a trench.

The designs were put up to a vote and Ruka's won. The class buzzed with excitement about the prospect of wearing those shirts for scrimmage. Tsubasa's grim design depicting a profile of a soldier with a star on his helmet won second place and it was decided that his could be the design for the hoodie.

"The shirts will be covered by the school," Narumi announced. "But if you want a hoodie, bring in the money by the end of this week with your size so I can put in the order by this weekend. If we do it all at once, we get a discount."

The shirt conversation was ending and Mikan tapped her fingers anxiously against her desk, eager to get to studying in their little groups as they had the past few weeks. Maybe Iinchou had some tips he could offer that would make her speech not as awful. The sooner she finished a rough draft, the better.

"Now, I thought it would be a good idea to get into groups to study, but this time, how about we group up according to our categories? That way we can start working together!" Narumi clapped his hands together, obviously proud of himself, but Mikan froze, suddenly deeply upset. "You'll be working together on the SuperQuiz portion of the competition, so we might as well get you all comfortable with each other now." Mikan started shaking her head, trying to make eye contact with him so he could see what a terrible decision he was making, but he ignored her. "Alright, everyone! Varsities over in that corner, Honors up here, and Scholastics right over there! Come on! Up and at 'em!"

Iinchou offered Mikan a sympathetic smile before he and Hotaru started walking over to the newly appointed Honors section. Mikan exhaled but there was nothing she could do to avoid this fate. She got to her feet and trudged to the Varsity corner, where Kusami and Kaoru had just finished pushing five desks together in a circle. There was only one vacant seat there, and it was unfortunately between Koko and Natsume, the worst person in the world.

Mikan dropped her binder onto the desk and reluctantly took her seat, refusing to look at Natsume.

"So," Kusami started, tapping his binder nervously. "We should probably study the subjects we're struggling with, right?"

"Yeah," Koko replied. "I guess."

"Well, what are you guys bad at?" Mikan asked, trying to participate so Natsume couldn't see how bothered she was. She wanted to come off as nonchalant.

"Everything," Nendo Kaoru answered. "Every subject is tough."

Mikan wanted to roll her eyes at him for saying that. He had the highest scores of all the Varsities, according to the online practice tests. He was basically promised a nice cushy spot on A-Team. Instead she smiled and moved her gaze to Koko to see if he wanted to contribute.

"I'm good at all the subjects," Koko said cheerfully. "My favorite is Econ."

"Koko," Mikan said slowly. "We've all seen the scores. You're terrible at Econ."

"That doesn't mean I don't love it."

"I'm really bad at Science," Kusami muttered.

"I'm awful at Art," Natsume offered, and Mikan's arm hair stood on end at the reminder. His elbow was too close to her, she realized.

"Oh, really?" she asked, still refusing to look at him. He'd agreed to keep their studying at detention a secret, but he couldn't be trusted. "I wouldn't know."

"But Polka Dots here is really good at Art. She's been studying it nonstop and knows pretty much everything which is why she gets the highest Art scores in class." He sure was laying it on thick, wasn't he? Last week, Iinchou had gotten a higher score than her in Art and had even apologized to her about it. Her expertise was quickly being surpassed. In no time, Hotaru would beat her too, and she'd get left behind. Mikan was feeling really bad about her chances of getting on any team, especially since Scrimmage was coming up quick. And Natsume wasn't doing so badly anymore either. His math score had shot up almost overnight so it was among the highest in class and his Lang Lit score boosted over 50%, probably with the help of Ruka, who had apparently read The Sun Also Rises several times already. Yeah, her chances were floundering. Natsume hadn't been lying about how easily he could overtake her with the application of minimal effort.

She glanced at him and saw he was smirking, but not looking at her. What an evil person.

"Oh, really?" Kaoru said. "You're good at Art?"

"Well, she's a terrible artist, but-"

"Shut up, Natsume."

"I really need help with Art!" Kaoru exclaimed.

"Me too," Kusami confessed.

"I'm pretty good at Art too," Koko bragged. Natsume shot him a look and Koko shrugged. "Okay, fine. You're right. I'm bad at every subject."

"So let's just have Polka Dots help us with Art."

"Wait-" Mikan tried to cut in, getting a bad feeling from all this.

"Sounds good to me," Kaoru said. Kusami nodded enthusiastically.

The boys started flipping through their curricula, settling on the Art section and even though she wanted to argue, Mikan gave in. She decided to skip the fundamentals and instead got right into summarizing important information about the main art pieces and their respective artists, including a breakdown of Bauhaus architecture and expressionist paintings.

She kept her gaze on Kusami who sat across the way from her, or on Koko, who kept asking random questions about Leonardo Da Vinci, and refrained from glancing over at Natsume, who was highlighting beside her, marking his Art pages in neon orange. The stupid idiot was left handed, so sometimes, when they moved to write at the same time, their elbows would brush and Mikan just knew he was doing that on purpose. She didn't like how close they were sitting.

They eventually got to reviewing Fountain and Mikan just knew before she even said the word out loud that Natsume would make some stupid comment.

"Does anyone know what movement Marcel Duchamp was part of?" she asked, feeling her breath quicken. He hadn't said anything but she could feel him thinking about detention.

"Dada!" Koko exclaimed, throwing his hands up and letting his pencil fly out of his grip. "Duh doy."

"Go pick up your pencil, moron," Natsume commanded and Koko saluted him before obeying. "Tell us about the Dadaists, Polka Dots."

"Hey," Kusami said before Mikan could even open her mouth. "Why do you call her that? Seems random."

"She likes to wear polka dots," Natsume explained simply.

"I don't think I remember her ever wearing polka dots," Kusami argued. And that's right. She didn't. Why on earth would she want to remind everyone who could remember kindergarten of the most humiliating moment of her life? Polka dots were cute and all, but there was no reason to have Natsume eye her with that knowing glare and live under his scrutiny.

"Oh, she wears polka dots alright," Koko said upon his return, his grin wide and far too amused. "She might even be wearing polka dots right now!"

She kicked him under their desks and he yelped. And for good measure, she kicked Natsume too. He just kicked her back, twice as hard. "Ow," she bit out. "Anyway, the Dada movement was all about absurdism-"

"She's not wearing polka dots, though," Kusami argued.

"You pay a lot of attention to what she wears, don't you?" Natsume asked bitterly. "Just shut up and fucking learn. No wonder you suck at Art. You can't focus."

"Hey! That's mean!" But Kusami dropped the topic.

Mikan almost felt grateful to Natsume for changing the subject back to Art, but then she remembered that this all started because he was always calling her Polka Dots, because he liked torturing her, because he'd tripped her and exposed her and made fun of her. Why would she be grateful for any of that?

The next time their elbows brushed, Mikan jabbed her elbow into his ribs hard enough to make him grunt.

When class ended and the rest of their category packed up and walked away, Mikan grabbed Natsume's shirt collar to keep him still.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

She pulled his collar so he was close to her, so she could land her evilest glare on him. "I know what you were trying to pull, you jerk!"

He only raised a ridiculously short eyebrow.

"Making me teach everyone about Art!"

"What was I pulling, then?" Natsume asked, smacking her hand off his shirt. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're the only one pulling here."

"Scrimmage is coming up and you're trying to make me waste time going over Art, which I already know, instead of studying stuff I'm not as good at, so that I'll flop on all the other subjects so you can get on A-Team."

Natsume's mouth quicked upwards and then he snorted out a horrible mocking laugh.

"Stop laughing!"

"You are so fucking stupid. Next time, we'll study something you suck at, then. Like Math or something."

No, there was no point in her learning Math. She'd always fail it. She'd been advised not to waste her time on lost causes.

"You're trying to sabotage me!"

He pinched her nose and gently pushed her face aways from his. "Polka Dots, I don't have to sabotage you in order to beat you. You make it too easy." He released her nose and stood up before she could grab him again. "You need to stop being so paranoid."

Mikan covered her nose defensively. "I'm onto you, you villain! You won't get away with this!"

He just smiled, the only way he ever did, sarcastically and almost imperceptibly, with precise mocking and sadistic bemusement. "See ya tomorrow, Polka Dots."


When they were very little, very small, they were assigned partners. Mikan never really understood the random combination-why anybody would think they should be hanging around all the time-but she could vaguely remember that she was perhaps assigned to him because he was a troublemaker and she was expected to straighten him out. Ridiculous.

They hated each other from the start. She did remember that much, that everything he ever did perpetually bothered her.

When that idle hatred escalated into misdeeds, it only grew in passion. He kicked over her dominos and she watched them all fall-the pretty tower she'd been making for Hotaru now in ruins on the floor. She'd turned her eyes towards the culprit, who just stared blankly down at the destruction he'd caused.

"YOU AWFUL FOX! I HATE YOU!"

The first flash of feeling crossed his eyes, causing them to narrow, and suddenly his little foot went in for round two, kicking all the remaining dominos to the ground for good measure.

"Maybe it'll be less ugly the second time you build it," he challenged, turning away in a huff.

This sort of thing ended up happening often, with the two of them causing more disruptions than any other children-or maybe all the other children combined.

The worst day of Mikan's life for a long time was around Mother's Day, when they were supposed to draw pictures for their moms, showing all their love and affection for them. Mikan loved her mother very much, so she intended on wowing her with a gorgeous drawing fit for a prime spot on the fridge. For that, she'd need many crayons. So, even though she and Natsume were supposed to share, she hogged the majority, leaving him with the ugly colors, all the tans and grays and the dark nasty shades of the rainbow. When he protested, she stuck her tongue out at him and maintained that she loved her mom more than he loved hers. She was sure of this. It was a fact. Natsume was evil. Evil boys don't love anything.

Apparently, hogging the colors really annoyed him, so later that day, when they were all moving to the playground in their long line, he stepped on the back of her shoes every two seconds, causing her to trip up over and over again.

"Stop it!" she kept hissing at him but he would just shrug innocently.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

And he didn't stop. He kept doing that the whole walk until he got bored. But he couldn't stop without a grand finale, so he hooked his foot around her ankle as she took a step, causing her to yelp and crash to the ground, her skirt flying up as she did so.

Mikan could still remember, after all these years, the creeping silence of everyone else as they looked over to their spot in the line.

"Mikan-chan," her teacher was saying. "Are you okay?"

She did not feel okay. Her elbows and knees hurt and her chin had collided with the linoleum floor. But it could get worse apparently.

"Get up, Polka Dots," Natsume said. The line of children erupted with laughter-all at her expense. They could all see, and he'd made it okay to make fun of her for it. He started; they followed.

She couldn't remember what he called her before then, but he never called her anything else after that. Always Polka Dots, always that miserable pattern, as if that was the only pattern she owned, as if she would ever wear that pattern again, on her underwear or otherwise.

He was a villain!

Mikan never appreciated how often teachers would shove them together, even after they proved over and over again that they couldn't cooperate. It had all started in kindergarten, too, with the stupid premise that a problem child could be straightened out by a good kid. Who came up with that idea?

For some reason, Narumi was happy with the results of the category-based studying.

"Sometimes, I get concerned about the formation of cliques in this class," he'd said. "And that's not what Aca Dec is about. It's about teamwork and uplifting each other. I saw how wonderfully you all got along and everyone was focused and behaved very well yesterday! Especially the Varsity corner. I was very impressed with how hard you all worked on Art with Mikan-chan!"

Mikan resisted the urge to bang her head against her desk.

"She's a natural leader," she heard Natsume say sarcastically. She glanced at the eraser on the edge of her desk and imagined turning around and chucking it at his head. In her imagination, it smacked him right in the forehead and knocked him fully backwards and everyone laughed at him, including Narumi-

"So, how about we all team up in categories again? Bonding is always good in this class! Let's split up those cliques!" Narumi pumped his fist in the air with enthusiasm but Mikan just slumped in her desk. She heard the shifting and scraping of desks behind her and was again the last person to join the Varsity desk clump, which meant sitting next to Natsume once more.

"So Art again?" Kusami proposed, already flitting through his curriculum.

"No," Natsume said authoritatively. "We're doing Math today. I'll lead."

Mikan bit back a groan. Everytime she thought he couldn't get any worse, he outdid himself. How did he have any friends? How did anyone like him?

"No offense, Natsume," Kaoru interjected. "But my Math score is higher than yours."

"Actually," Natsume corrected, not even looking up from his binder. "I beat you in the last two online quiz scores. Besides, I definitely know Calculus better than anyone at this table, scores aside."

"True enough," Kaoru muttered under his breath, averting his gaze.

"I don't wanna study Math," Mikan whined. She didn't understand why everyone else always just went along with whatever Natsume wanted. How had he become so powerful? He needed to be deposed. Maybe violently. Preferably violently. "I'd rather do Science or something."

"We'll do Science next time," Natsume said, opening his binder to the Math curriculum, which was surprisingly thoroughly highlighted, with neat notes in the margins.

"No, I'm setting a boundary. I can't do Math today." Mikan couldn't do Math anyday, but she was very much against Natsume having his way right now.

He exhaled tightly, then adjusted in his seat so he could flip through her curriculum until her binder was open to the Math section, which was, unlike his, completely devoid of notes or highlighting. Just stark black on white. It could not be more obvious that she left this subject largely untouched. "I'll make sure even someone as stupid as you can understand," he whispered quietly enough so nobody else could hear. "But don't let your rivals see you weak."

"You're my rival," she retorted, disregarding his efforts to have a private conversation.

"One of them," he said softly. "But I already know you're weak. They don't have to." He turned back to his own binder. "How crap are the rest of you at Calculus?"

"Awful!" Koko chirped, raising his hand enthusiastically. "I don't know anything, Natsume-sensei."

"I know Isaac Newton invented it," Kusami offered.

"We'll start at the basics, then."

Mikan didn't complain. Not even when he had them do practice questions. Not even when he defined a differential. Not even when his elbow touched hers. Partly because she didn't want the other Varisities to see her weak. Partly because the other kids seemed more than relieved to have Calculus explained to them. And partly because he was able to explain it so even she could understand most of it.

She got a partially correct answer on one of the practice questions and he had said something like, "Wow, Polka Dots," all exaggeratedly-impressed and all, and somehow, that comment had created a strange warmth in her chest. She kept it down and off her face, but he was impressed with her (even as a joke), so she was impressed with herself. She knew she'd probably forget all this right after class, but for now, Natsume had actually helped.

Something nefarious was going on.


The hoodies came in the last week of October. By then, Narumi had made sure the students studied in their categories most days, unless they were in the computer lab taking the online quizzes or workshopping their speeches on the two separate occasions they'd been assigned to work on their speeches. As a result, Mikan ended up working with Natsume a lot. The third time, she'd tried to show up early to the desk clump so she didn't have to sit next to him, but that put her right across from him, which was somehow worse, because they kept making eye contact and that felt more intimidating than just brushing elbows every once in a while. After that, she gave in and sat next to him every time until it became as mundane as breathing.

Mikan wore her hoodie the second she got it. It was yellow (which was a relief because it had nothing to do with red) with Ruka's design etched in black. "I look like a bumblebee!" she boasted to Hotaru, who wore hers with significantly less enthusiasm.

"You look like a moron," she corrected. "But that has little to do with the hoodie."

"You look really good in yellow, Hotaru," Mikan preened, scooting her chair closer to her best friend. Class had just started and they had yet to find out what Narumi had in mind for the day. "You look even more like a bumblebee than I do."

"You barely look human," Hotaru replied. "More like an evolved early primate. A Neanderthal, perhaps. Perhaps even worse than that."

"You're so mean." Mikan turned away from her friend to look at her fellow classmates, all getting cozy in their hoodies. When she saw Natsume suddenly donning bright yellow, she almost gasped. "What an eyesore," she muttered.

"Are you talking about Natsume-kun again?" Hotaru asked.

"I mean, yeah, just look at him-"

"That's your hobby, not mine."

Mikan finally tore her gaze away from Natsume. "Huh? Hobby?"

"Looking at Natsume-kun."

"That's not my hobby! That's not anybody's hobby. Maybe Permy's. I hate looking at him."

"Excellent," her friend said, glaring at her. "So don't. I dare you. Don't look at him. Try not to look at him for a full day. If you can't, stop using me as a sounding board for all your pointless beef with him. If you can, then I'll take back what I said and I'll let you prattle on about him as much as you want in the future."

"You honestly don't think I can go twenty-four hours without looking at him?" Hotaru hated hearing about Natsume, so if she was willing to wager so much, then she had very little faith that Mikan could do it.

"Twenty-four hours?" Hotaru shook her head. "I don't think you can go a single class period."

"Ha! Just watch me, then." Mikan sat up straight, her back to Natsume again. "Deal accepted. A full twenty-four day. I can go on even longer, really." It was an insulting dare, but that just made her more excited to see the look on her friend's face when she was proven wrong. Natsume was a horror to behold. This would probably be the best twenty-four hours of her life, going without having to see his ugly mug.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Hotaru warned. "You haven't even gone a full minute yet."

Narumi stole their attention shortly after that, praising Ruka's design some more, donning his own yellow hoodie. "Now before we get to work today, I wanted to remind you that our regional Scrimmage is the second Saturday of November, so time's coming up quick. We'll get the scores right away. That week you'll be turning in your speech drafts as well as your personal statement. That statement will detail which team you'd prefer and why you'd be a good fit for it. Then, over the weekend, after Scrimmage, I'll be drafting the teams. Do not forget to turn these two things in, because if you don't, you won't be making a good case for yourself." He clapped. "Now go on and get to work!"

Mikan realized she was gonna be studying with Natsume again. That might make not looking at him a bit of a challenge, but she was determined not to fail. She was the first to the corner, so she took it upon herself to arrange the desks into their usual clump. She sat down in her usual seat and pressed her face against her binder so she couldn't see anything, especially not Natsume.

"Natsume!" she called out, her nose smushed against the pages. "Sit next to me!"

She heard a clatter from the desk beside her. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

"Are you sitting beside me?" she asked.

"I don't wanna answer that." But his voice seemed to be coming from beside her so she rejoiced and looked up from her binder. Now she could look straight ahead safely. He was beside her, so easier to ignore. She would have to physically move her head to look at him, which was a chore. She probably wouldn't even be tempted to look at him this way. Now that she thought about it, it was weird that she had ever looked at him, just because of how little she liked him and how little he interested her.

She could see he was sitting in her periphery, after all. She'd win this bet without a single issue.

"What do you wanna study today?" she asked him, flipping through her binder. "Anything but Art. And Math."

When he didn't reply, she barely caught herself from turning to see what was distracting him. But she did catch herself. Just a momentary lapse in thought. Nothing more.

"Hmm?" she prompted again, keeping her eyes on the pages in her binder, just to be met with silence again.

The rest of Varsity sat down, but Natsume still wasn't saying anything, and Mikan was starting to feel peeved.

"Should we cover Social Science today?" Kusami asked and the others seemed to agree. Mikan waited for Natsume to chime in, to brag about his better scores or to make fun of her, but he didn't.

The lesson went by that way, with him remaining silent at her side. It was hard for her to pay attention to anything when she kept wondering why he was choosing today of all days to shut up. He only ever said anything when he was reading a blurb from the curriculum or the few times Kaoru asked him questions. Each time he spoke, Mikan's gut would get all churny and sick, like she'd eaten something bad. She wondered suddenly if she'd done something to really piss him off.

When class was dismissed and the Varsities were packing away their materials, Mikan reached out to grab him, any part of him that she could, and when she caught on something soft and cottony, the same texture as her own hoodie, she gripped tight. She didn't look at him, so she couldn't be sure what part of the hoodie she was holding, but he stayed still and that was all that mattered.

"Polka Dots."

She tugged to bring him closer but he didn't budge. "Get over here," she hissed, but when he didn't comply, she had to settle for waiting 'til the other Varsities left.

"I'd like to get home eventually," he told her. "You cannot make a habit of harassing me like this after every class."

Mikan grit her teeth. It was all she could do to not look at him. "You can't do that anymore."

"Do what? Go home?"

"Be all quiet like that! What has gotten into you?!"

Natsume didn't answer. Not looking at him was turning out to be a hindrance. Usually, just looking at him, at those awful red eyes and the mocking slant of his mouth was enough for her to read him, to simply know every cruel and malicious thought he'd ever had, to be assured in her existence and his existence and how entirely unrelated they were. But when she couldn't see him, there was nothing. It was weird.

"Say something," she demanded lowly, still staring daggers at her Social Science curriculum, opened to a random page. She doubted they'd even covered that section today.

"I don't usually talk very much, Polka Dots. You should know that. I'm not a loud gorilla like you, who has to make noise all the time to remind people she's there."

No, he was often quiet, but…

"No," she argued, though she had no idea what she was saying. "Usually-"

"Usually you spare me a glance when you talk to me," Natsume said.

Mikan was shocked by the tone of his voice, how he almost sounded hurt. It was enough to erase every thought from her brain and cast her chin up to look at his face. When her eyes met his, the frown on his face subsided and the corners of his mouth tilted up a little, almost imperceptibly.

"Like that."

"Were you mad?"

"It's kinda pointless to get mad at you. I don't have the energy to be constantly upset with someone so persistently irritating."

He definitely was an eyesore in that yellow hoodie. He never wore bright colors like that, so it looked weird on him. It clashed with his red eyes and was too sharp a contrast with his black hair. She'd saved her eyes not looking at him all class, but somehow a part of her brain thought he looked even more like a bumblebee in the hoodie than she did. More than anybody. She promised herself she'd never tell him.

"I was mad at you," she said instead.

He shrugged. "You always are."

"Just…" She released her hold on his hoodie. She realized she'd been holding on to the front pocket, by his stomach. She'd never had her hand there unless it was to give him a weak hit to the gut or something. She replaced her hand into her own hoodie pocket. "Talk to me next time. How can that be hard?"

"What, you like talking to me all of a sudden?"

"It's not like I like it, but… Jeez, you know what I mean!"

"Okay," he agreed. "But only if you…" He trailed off and looked away. Then he shook his head and exhaled sharply. "Yeah, nevermind. I'll talk to you. It's fine." He took a step away from her. "Am I allowed to go home now?"

Mikan nodded.

When he left, she was one of the last people in the classroom other than Narumi. She packed up her things and moved to leave the class when her teacher piped up. "I'm glad to see how well you and Natsume-kun get on!" She turned to him, a shot of white hot rage at that assumption brimming in her throat. "You work very well together!"

Mikan swallowed so the rage slowly crept back down into her stomach, where it usually sat until Natsume did something to tick her off. "I'll see you tomorrow, Coach Narumi."

Mikan saw Hotaru again the next morning. At her friend's inquisitive arched brow, Mikan just glowered.

"I won't talk about him anymore," she bit out. She didn't want to see the smug look on Hotaru's face, so she pretended to look at something on her phone. She doubted she'd ever go a day without glancing over at him.


Natsume held to his promise, talking to her a little each time they were seated next to each other, even if only to say, "I'm talking to you, see?" Mikan would smile sarcastically in reply, but she was relieved to not have to go through that chilling silence again. She also decided to never again examine the whole unable-to-not-look-at-him thing, since that was a tedious issue. It didn't mean anything.

Besides, he was just a distraction. She had bigger things to worry about, like getting her speech done and worthy of A Team. If anything, he was just a reminder of how desperately she wanted to get on the team.

Each day she'd go home and try to type up some draft on her computer. Each day, she'd write a paragraph or two just to delete it. She'd spend more time staring at the keyboard than actually typing and it was starting to get to her.

And time was running out.

The week before scrimmage seemed to come without warning, but whereas everyone else in class seemed to be pumped about the upcoming chance to show off their increasing knowledge, Mikan was starting to feel pretty hopeless. Her speech was still nonexistent, and all she had to show for her objective scores were a decent Art score, mediocre scores in everything else, and the couple things she learned from Natsume about Calculus. The gloomy, cloudy weather all week wasn't helping much in raising her spirits either.

She spent Monday's study time drafting her predictions for the team picks and put herself definitively on B Team. Natsume was leading on Calculus the next day, and Mikan tried very hard to follow along, inputting formulas into her calculator when he commanded and looking at the equations with intent, but by the end of the class, she still had more confusion than understanding about the subject.

Wednesday was Lang Lit day and she was startled by the fact that she hadn't even heard of Ezra Pound before. All through that class, she stayed quiet, trying to highlight as much as she could, knowing full well most of the words would go right through her head anyway.

Narumi decided that Thursday should be dedicated to speech, so he split the class into new groups based on how far along in the speech the students were. The kids who were pretty much done could edit each others' speeches and try to wrap up. The kids about halfway done would give each other pointers on how to finish. And the last group, who needed further help, would try to "encourage each other," but Mikan knew that meant only one thing.

When she sat in the final group, next to Mochu and Kusami and Kaoru and Hoshino and Megane, she felt it coming on. But it wasn't until she glanced up to see Natsume in the same group as Hotaru and Ruka and Iinchou, with a very nearly finished speech in his hands, that the feeling won.

It was over.

The class did nothing to further inspire her, either. The other kids in her group just sat morosely, staring at their blank pages and giving empty advice on when best to write and which online thesaurus they preferred.

As soon as the class ended, Mikan rushed out of the room, leaving her empty notes on the table. Tomorrow was the day they'd have to turn in their speech drafts and personal statements, and then after that was Scrimmage. She was out of time, she realized as she walked home, watching the gray clouds above her.

She didn't want to go home yet. She didn't want to see her grandpa waiting for her at the dining room table, asking her how her day was. She knew she'd burst into tears and she didn't want to talk about it. How pathetic, to cry over how stupid she was when everyone in her life already knew. Hadn't Natsume warned her that she'd only managed to beat him because he wasn't trying at all? And now that he was trying, he'd quickly surpassed her in nearly everything. Her Art expertise was meaningless too, since her online quiz scores were suddenly getting caught up by smarter kids who were good at lots of subjects, not just one.

She decided to go to the park a few blocks away from school instead of home. She sat at a picnic table and started writing her personal statement. Though her speech was plaguing her with how difficult it was to write, her surrender was somehow much easier to cough up. Maybe she should've given up before.

Personal Statement

I don't think I'm a good fit for A Team. I want to be on A Team, but it's obviously not going to happen. I put all my effort into Aca Dec this past month and I'm still just as bad at it as I was last year. I'm really sorry for being so bad. I'm also sorry for not writing a speech but there's no point since B Team doesn't do subjectives anyway.

Thank you,

Sakura Mikan

She reread it a few times and went over it again with her pen to make sure each word was perfectly visible. Narumi never expected the personal statements to be long or detailed, just long enough to say everything the student wanted to say and Mikan really didn't want to say very much.

She jumped on the table's bench when she heard a crack of thunder somewhere in the distance. The air was starting to smell like rain, too, and Mikan figured it was time to go home.

She packed away her personal statement and tried to start walking the normal way home, but the wind was blowing harder than before and her eyes were stinging so she decided to take a shortcut she didn't often take, where her eyes wouldn't be in the way of the wind.

That ended up making things worse somehow, since the houses became unfamiliar. What street was she even on? She kept walking but wondered if she'd somehow left town without even realizing. This looked like a bad neighborhood too, with chipped sidewalks and unkempt yards. The houses were small and Mikan was sure she'd gone too far from home.

Then the rain started.

She stood in place and watched it fall. She should've listened to Jii-chan when he told her to bring an umbrella this morning. Then thunder struck again and she started to cry. She was all alone. She was gonna die.

"I'm gonna die," she mumbled as she cried. "I'm gonna die here all alone." But that didn't seem so bad when she remembered that dying meant she couldn't be assigned a team at all, making her safe from the scrutiny that was sure to come on Monday when everyone laughed at her for thinking she could get on A Team. She didn't stop crying though. Not even when her clothes soaked through. Not even when she gave up on trying to save her backpack. At least her loss of motivation meant that she'd left her curriculum in her dry locker at school.

"Polka Dots?"

Mikan groaned out loud and then sobbed. She refused to turn around. She didn't want him to see her crying. He was sure to get a kick out of it, which was the only thing that could make this moment worse.

"Polka…" His voice was closer now so Mikan tucked her chin down to hide her face. "Hey, are you okay? What are you doing here?"

Mikan was relieved at the rain. He probably wouldn't even be able to tell she was crying because her face would be wet anyway. She put on her best withering smile and turned to him.

"What do you want?" she asked, ignoring the crack in her voice. "Are you stalking me or something?"

"This is my street," he told her. He was holding an umbrella in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, while wearing that yellow Aca Dec hoodie that made him look like a bumblebee. His face was too blank. It was hard to read what exactly he was thinking. "I live there." He pointed down the street but Mikan didn't look. She was only just now realizing that she'd never known where he lived before. Did he know where she lived? Did he know how far from home she was?

"I see," she muttered.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I was going home," she answered. "Because of the rain."

"Are you lost?" Mikan didn't want to answer so she just stayed still, watching his face for signs of emotion. "Is that why you're crying?"

"I'm not crying!" she insisted. "And I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am!"

"So where are you?"

Obviously, there was no way she could give an honest response so she sighed.

He just shrugged. "My dad will be home in about an hour. You can get a ride home then."

"I don't want you driving me anywhere."

"I meant my dad, idiot."

"An hour is a long time from now."

Natsume only answered by holding his umbrella a bit higher, as if to let her under it.

"No way."

"If you want to stand here in the cold rain forever until you die, that's fine with me, but I doubt you'd be okay with that, so maybe you should just get under the umbrella, Polka Dots."

Mikan gave up. She was surrendering with everything else anyway. She might as well let Natsume win tonight too. It's not like she shouldn't start getting used to it.

They walked under the umbrella in silence, going down the street for a few minutes. She was still wet, but now that she was under the cover of the umbrella, she could feel how her sweater was sticking to her skin, How uncomfortable and cold she was. What if she got sick and couldn't go to Scrimmage? Maybe that'd be for the best.

When Natsume started turning towards one of the houses, a teeny one with a rusty gate and potted flowers by the door, Mikan turned with him, quickly taking in everything about his home. Despite its size, it still looked cute and homely and relatively well cared for. She wasn't sure what she'd imagined his house would look like, but she was sure she'd expected it to be more of a dark, creepy prison or dungeon or castle or something… not this.

He opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. She stood at the threshold of the house and watched him shake off his umbrella before folding it again. He kicked his shoes off and so she bent down to take hers off and placed them beside his. He hadn't announced his arrival, so were they the only ones in the house? Were they supposed to be alone for an hour? Mikan wasn't sure she knew how to be alone with Natsume for that long.

As he closed the door, she looked around. They were a couple footsteps away from the living room, where a couple old-fashioned couches were against the wall, facing a modestly-sized TV. The kitchen was right across the way from the living room, and its boasting of all white appliances and tiling would be blinding if there was much space on the counters that wasn't taken up by mugs or bowls of fruit or bottles of pop. Past those two rooms was a mysterious hallway that probably led to the bathroom and bedrooms, and Mikan kinda wanted to wander around this place and imagine Natsume in each room. He really lived here?

She broke out of her reverie when she felt a hand bonk her head.

"Yo," Natsume said. "Stop spacing out."

"You live here…" was all she could say.

"Yeah."

"Onii-chan!" Mikan jumped at the sudden shriek and looked up to see a girl with the same red eyes as Natsume barreling down the hall, an angry look painted on her face. This was the girl Mikan had seen through the window at Tsubasa's birthday. Natsume's sister. "You didn't answer my text! Did you buy the tampons?" She immediately stopped still when she caught a glimpse of Mikan. Her face was suddenly blank like Natsume's always was. "You… You brought someone home."

"Uh, yeah-"

"A girl."

"Yeah-"

"OH MY GOD!" The girl's face suddenly broke into an expression of horror. "Oh my God, this is so embarrassing! Ignore everything I just said please!"

Mikan raised her hands to reassure her. "No, no, not embarrassing-"

"You should've told me, Onii-chan!"

"It wasn't planned," Natsume said. "She was abandoned in the rain like a stray dog so I did the generous thing and took her home. But you can't keep her."

"Hi," Mikan greeted, still waving her hands. "I'm Mikan."

The girl cocked her head to the side. "No way." Her jaw dropped. "You're Mikan?!"

Natsume shoved past his sister to get to the kitchen. "Don't accost her. Just go back to your room and play those girly dress-up doll games on your computer or something-"

"It's called The Sims, Onii-chan!" She turned back to her houseguest with a smile. "Oh my God, Mikan. You're, like, famous in this house!"

Mikan wasn't sure how to feel about that. "I am?"

"Uh, yeah! My brother's been talking to us about you for years."

"No, I haven't," Natsume said from the kitchen.

"It's okay, Natsume," Mikan called to him. "I've been complaining about you to my family for years too."

His sister just giggled. "Sure." She stuck her hand out to Mikan. "I'm Aoi, Natsume's adorable little sister. Thank you for taking care of him at school."

Mikan shook the offered hand. "I don't think I'm taking care of him, really."

Natsume emerged from the kitchen with two glasses full of juice. When he handed one to her, she nearly fell over from the surprise.

"Thank you," she said uncertainly, clutching the cold glass. There was a Winnie the Pooh design on it, and Mikan tried to imagine her worst enemy torturing her at school just to come home and drink out of Pooh Bear glasses and talk to his sister about The Sims.

"You can sit down. You don't have to talk to Aoi. She's not very interesting."

"I am very interesting," Aoi argued. "And where is my juice?"

"Pour your own," Natsume replied, taking a sip from his own glass, patterned with Mickey Mouse.

"Natsume loves orange juice!" Aoi declared before running to the kitchen, probably to pour herself juice.

"Go to your room."

Mikan took Natsume up on his offer to sit, because she didn't think she could continue standing with all this information being sprung on her like this. She tried to sit on the edge of the couch because she was soaking from the rain and didn't want to ruin the Hyuuga furniture. She wouldn't mind if it was Natsume's, but his family didn't deserve to pay the price for his horrible behavior. She sipped at her orange juice and watched her nemesis bicker with his sister.

"Why can't I stay?" Aoi whined after she'd poured her juice. "I've never met her before and you get to hang out with her without me at school all the time. It's not fair."

"Just go away already."

"Did you even… buy what I told you to buy?"

"Yes, I got your stupid tampons."

"Shh!"

Aoi fussed with the plastic bag Natsume had dropped by the door for a while before she stood up, hiding a very obvious box of tampons behind her back.

"Alright fine," she conceded. "I will go to my room. Mikan, it was lovely to meet you and I hope we can hang out sometime. And Natsume… have fun with your girlfriend." She sprinted away just as she said that, and Natsume was too busy trying to chase after her to catch how Mikan choked on her juice.

He returned shortly after Mikan heard the slam of a door down the hall. "Aoi is an idiot," was all he said.

He sat down on the other couch, maintaining a safe distance from her. "She's very energetic," she replied, remembering Tsubasa's description of her from so many months ago. Her throat burned from choking on orange juice a second ago.

"Too energetic." A moment of silence passed between them, where they avoided looking at each other or saying anything, until he picked up a remote from the coffee table in front of him and switched on the TV. "Let's watch something until my dad gets home."

Mikan pretended to watch TV with Natsume in his living room, but she was a little distracted from whatever cartoon was on the screen because everything else was overwhelming. She was in her worst enemy's home. He was going to steal her spot on A Team, but he saved her from the rain. His sister was a lot. He'd poured her juice. She was a failure.

She tried to blink away her tears but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Are you ready for Saturday?" Natsume asked all of a sudden.

Mikan burst into tears.

"H-Hey. Huh… What's going on?"

She let her face collide into her knees, on her wet jeans. She left herself sob more into the fabric.

She felt Natsume sit on the couch beside her. He didn't touch her.

"Hey, don't cry."

"I'll cry if I want to!" she snapped.

That seemed to shock him into quiet for a second. When he spoke again, his voice was strained, clearly uncomfortable. "Okay, cry then."

She cried more, but she wished she wouldn't. He was the last person she wanted to cry in front of, but here she was.

"But, um, why are you crying?" When Mikan didn't answer, he continued. "Is it because of Aoi? Honestly, she really is an idiot. You don't have to worry about the girlfriend thing-she's just crazy."

"I'm not crying because of your sister!"

"Then, did I do something?"

"Yes!" Mikan sat up suddenly, and Natsume jumped back to avoid her hitting him in the face with her head. "You joined Aca Dec! I'm not gonna get on A Team and it's partially your fault!"

"Huh?"

"I'm awful! I should've just transferred to Ceramics! My scores are terrible. I suck at everything. I haven't written anything for my speech at all. My only good subject is Art, and everyone else is gonna be better than me at it soon enough. And you're gonna be on A Team and I'm gonna have to watch the whole year and I really wanted to be on A Team. And I wrote this, so you don't even have to worry about trying on Saturday." She angrily fished her personal statement out of her backpack and flung it at him, ignoring how damp it was.

He took the paper from her. She didn't look at him at all, just glared at the cartoon playing on TV and only noticing for the first time that second that he had muted it, probably when she started crying.

"You're gonna turn this in?" he asked.

"Uh, duh, that's why I wrote it."

She only looked back at him when she heard the sound of ripping and tearing. She watched wide-eyed as he tore up her personal statement into little pieces.

"Hey!"

"You can't turn that in," he told her.

"I'm just gonna write it again. It wasn't even that long!"

"I'll tear that up too."

"What the heck is your problem anyway?"

"You're a terrible nemesis," he sneered. "What is the point of being in this stupid class if you're just gonna give up? I guess I'll have to be on B Team too." He shook the paper residue off his hands and leaned back against the couch.

"What are you even talking about?"

"You know I joined to mess with you right?" When Mikan nodded, he shrugged. "Why the hell would I want to be on A Team if you're not there too for me to mess with?"

"Because…" Mikan blinked at him for a minute until she hardened her gaze. "Because! Because A Team is great and fun and you get to stay in a hotel with your friends and show off how smart you are and get high scores to prove how hard you worked and-"

"None of that is as fun as messing with you, though."

"You're the worst!" Mikan groaned and threw herself against the backrest of the couch too, temporarily forgetting about not getting the couch wet. "It's no use. Don't you get it? I'm too stupid to write a good speech and I don't even know who Ezra Pound is so how am I supposed to-"

"Ezra Pound is a Nazi," Natsume interrupted. "And I only know that because Ruka told me."

"Whatever! The only thing that matters is that I didn't know that! I don't know why I even bothered-"

"I thought you didn't give up. You're gonna let me ruin everything? You've never let me win before."

"It's not letting you win! It's just accepting that you were gonna win this one anyway, whether I tried or not."

"That's not necessarily true," he cut in, his voice taking on an insufferable tone. "I mean, you could've won this one. Maybe by a lot. Now we'll never know because you didn't even try."

"But you would've-"

"But we'll never know, will we?"

Mikan couldn't reply in an intelligent way so she just glared at him.

"I'm your worst enemy, right?" She nodded. "Your speech idea is way better than mine. The power of enemies is way more creative than cats. I may have finished a draft of my speech, but your friend completely knocked it, so obviously it could use a lot of work. All you have to do is finish a draft. And a personal statement that isn't quite so whiny."

"What would you prefer I write then?"

Natsume held out his hand, grabbing a pen from the table. "Your notebook."

She pulled her notebook out of her bag and then handed it to him. He immediately started writing and Mikan watched a little bit of his bangs that kept bouncing up and down as he moved his pen across the paper. He was only a few inches away from her, but that distance seemed so much smaller when he was pointing his knees toward her like this. The notebook's spiral spine kept scratching against the wet fabric of her jeans and since Natsume was a leftie, every so often, his hand would make contact with her lower thigh. Had they ever sat this close of their own accord before? They were usually forced into close proximity by evil seating charts and misled school assignments, but nobody was forcing them to be together on the same couch this time. Why had he even gotten up to get closer to her anyway?

When he sat up again, she had to remind herself what was happening before he handed the notebook over to her so she could read the personal statement he'd written for her.

Personal Statement

I work harder than anybody else in this class. I'll put my all into everything. I like to help my classmates with the subjects that I'm good at and I'm a good listener so I can learn from them too. My speech is kickass and I deserve to be on A Team, especially because the only way Natsume will have a good time on that team is if he has me around to mess with. He is very handsome and smart and perfect and he says I should be on A Team which means you should put me there. End of story.

Put me on A Team, dick.

Sakura Mikan

"Ugh!" Mikan dropped her notebook in a show of disgust. "How dare you sign my name on all that stuff I'd never say?"

"You'd never say you're a hard worker and a good listener?"

"I meant the stuff about you being perfect and the disrespectful swearing."

"It was a draft," he said pointedly. "It's not all the way there yet. You can always fix it so it's better."

Mikan shut her notebook. "I get it, okay. I'll write a new statement."

"And your speech?"

"I'll write a draft," she said emphatically. "Because I really don't want you writing one for me."

"Yeah, it'd be too good and you'd get all depressed again."

'This statement you wrote is making me think you're really not all that good of a writer after all."

"You wound me."

She shoved her notebook back in her bag and turned back to Natsume, only to realize that they were still close. Too close. Their faces were only a few inches away from each other, and his eyes peering into hers felt almost invasive, like he could tell she was thinking about something she shouldn't.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

He didn't move away, but she didn't either, getting the feeling that this was another one of their games, like the staring. The first one to withdraw was the loser. She had just lost the taste of surrender, so she wasn't about to let him win again.

They only jumped back when the front door opened and a man came in, followed by a howl of wind.

"I'm home!" the man called out to the house.

Natsume and Mikan had thrown themselves away from each other, so now Mikan was sitting uncomfortably against the armrest of the couch with her spine rod-straight and Natsume was leaning unnaturally across the length of the back.

"Natsume," the man said with surprise when his eyes settled on the two of them. "You have a guest. A girl. Who isn't Sumire-chan."

Mikan blinked in surprise that Permy had been in Natsume's house before.

"This is Polka Dots," Natsume introduced, lazily pointing to her.

"Mikan," she corrected.

"This is my dad. He calls himself an artist but he's pretty talentless."

"Mikan," Natsume's dad echoed, ignoring the very harsh criticism from his own son. "The Mikan?"

"I've heard I was famous in this house," Mikan teased. To think their long-standing hatred of each other was familiar to these people she'd never even met…

"Famous is an understatement!" he argued, beaming. "You're the only one of Natsume's friends I haven't met. I don't even know what to-Do you want juice? Natsume loves orange juice-"

Friends?!

"So I've heard-"

Natsume's voice cut in coldly before the conversation could continue. "Polka Dots needs a lift, Dad. She got stranded in the rain and needs to go home."

"Ohh!" Natsume's dad clapped his hands together and nodded ecstatically. "Yes! You want me to drive you home?"

Mikan nodded. "That would be very nice, sir, thank you-"

"But you're not in a rush, right? You can stay for dinner!"

"YES!" Aoi's shriek came from down the hall and the sound of her bedroom door flying open quickly followed. Soon enough, the girl was in the living room again, her hands pressed together in a pleading gesture. "Please stay for dinner!"

"Stop harassing her," Natsume commanded. "She can't stay for dinner anyway. She has homework to do."

"He's right," Mikan conceded. "I have to write a speech and all."

Aoi's posture slumped in disappointment and their father's smile withered. "I see," he said with understanding. "That's no problem. You can always come by for dinner some other time."

Aoi perked back up at that. "YES! Yes, you have to, Mikan-chan! I mean, from all we've heard about you, you're practically part of the family already-"

"Shut up, Aoi," Natsume spat. "For fuck's sake."

"That's a very generous offer," Mikan said, getting to her feet. "Maybe sometime?"

"How about tomorrow night?" Aoi asked. "Or the day after that?"

"She said 'maybe sometime' to be polite, Aoi. Shut up."

"Maybe sometime," Natsume's father agreed. "We don't want to scare the poor girl away. It would be awful if she never wanted to come by again. Right?" Aoi nodded, suddenly quiet. "Come now, Mikan-chan, I'll drive you home."

Mikan nodded with a grateful smile and picked up her stuff. She turned to Natsume, who was still on the couch, lounging artificially as if that position was comfortable.

She thought of a lot of things she could say to him for what he'd said. She could thank him for saving her from the rain, or for inspiring her. She could tell him she was grateful or that his house was lovely. Instead she leaned in close so his family couldn't overhear. "I'm gonna destroy you on A Team," she promised.

Natsume didn't say anything and his facial expression didn't change but when he shrugged, she stuck her tongue out at him.


Mikan dropped her stapled speech into one assignment tray, her revamped personal statement in the other, unable to keep the smugness off her face. "Ha! And you all thought I couldn't do it!"

"True," Hotaru agreed. "But it looks like you managed after all."

"I knew you could do it!" Iinchou said supportively.

Mikan grinned at him, sitting between her friends.

When Natsume entered the room and placed his assignments in their respective trays, Mikan found herself frozen. She was nervous he'd ask her about the personal statement or speech, but he merely glanced at her before walking to his desk.

For some reason, the lack of interaction disappointed her. She shook her head to dispel those strange thoughts.

"Hello, everyone!" Narumi greeted the class when he entered. "This is the last day before Scrimmage. Make sure to get a good night's sleep tonight! And make it to Nishi on time. There'll be a lot of neighboring schools there, so be on your best behavior. Let's remind them why we're Division I!"

The class whooped and cheered.

While Regionals tended to take place at a couple schools that were further away, Scrimmage was a smaller event that housed about a dozen of the area's schools. Nishi was usually the organizer, and since they were Alice's biggest rival, that meant that Scrimmage was the beginning of rising tensions. "Beating Nishi" was apparently the goal for most Alice kids.

Scrimmage was not very official, but its casual nature did not mean it wasn't to be taken with seriousness, especially since the scores from this event would decide the teams for the rest of the competition.

Mikan had recently been reinvigorated, so she was getting pumped to show her stuff and prove to a certain someone that she was a worthy adversary.

The class went by pretty quickly, since Narumi decided the kids could work in whatever groups they wanted. Mikan let Iinchou walk her through some complicated Science concepts until the bell rang and he advised her to double check all the formulas in her calculator before the tests tomorrow.

Though she didn't turn to look at him often during class, she was somehow highly aware of Natsume's group a few desks away, which consisted of him, Ruka, and Permy. Though she had no idea what they had been studying, it was hard to miss Permy's frequent giggling.

Mikan walked home with Hotaru, who was talking about something very tedious and dull while Mikan stared off into space thinking about her speech and how it had ended up pretty decent. Maybe spending time with her enemy had reminded her of the benefits of having one.

"Mikan, are you even listening?"

"Hmm?"

Hotaru rolled her eyes impatiently. "I said, Permy will be driving us to and from Nishi, so make sure you're ready to go at seven."

"Seven? Seven AM?"

"Yes. Apparently Permy's gonna treat us to Starbucks tomorrow, so we need to be up earlier. Being ready on time is the very least we can do since she's doing us such a big favor and getting us coffee."

"Okay, I'll be ready then. No big deal."

"Make sure, Mikan. Tell your grandpa to wake you. I don't trust how heavy of a sleeper you are."

"I'll be ready!"

"Good."

They parted ways to go to their respective houses and Mikan made sure to tell her grandpa to wake her at six just in case her own alarm failed. Before going to bed, Mikan studied Econ and then brushed up on her Art knowledge. She went to sleep early, determined to wake up on time and be refreshed for Scrimmage.


She woke up late.

Something about Jii-chan forgetting to wake her up at six. On top of that she slept through three alarms until she jolted awake a mere five minutes before Permy was due to pick her up. Picking out an outfit was a non-issue for most Aca Dec related events. Wearing the school spirit-related clothing was usually a safe bet, and since hoodies went best with more casual clothing, she didn't have to think hard before grabbing the first pair of jeans she landed her eyes on. She rushed through her morning routine, but she could feel the doorbell downstairs ringing even as she spit her toothpaste into the sink.

Mikan heard Jii-chan shuffling to get the door, so she used what little time she had left before Permy destroyed her for taking too long. She arranged her backpack with things she'd need for the day: her curriculum, her phone and charger, plenty of pencils, and some money to pay back the designated driver. Food would be provided, since they had to declare their pizza topping preference (pepperoni or cheese?) and side choice (salad or chips) a couple weeks in advance, so she didn't have to worry about that.

Mikan scanned her bedroom, looking for anything else she might need, but her focus was broken when she heard Permy scream from the foyer downstairs, "Oh, Sakura, you have got to be kidding me!"

"What?" she shot back, rushing out her room and trotting down the stairs, feeling very much like a mountain goat as she did so. "I'm ready just like I said!"

Permy was standing in the doorway, dressed in her yellow hoodie, refusing to come all the way in since she'd have no time to take her shoes off, so Jii-chan stood off to the side awkwardly, waiting for both girls to leave. "Nice try," she said, her arms crossed defiantly, a sneer on her mouth. "Your hair has clearly not been acquainted with a brush today." She rolled her eyes before she turned around on her heel , waving her finger in the air. "Come on now. I have one in my car."

"Bye, Jii-chan," Mikan said in a hurry, tossing him a wary smile and blowing him a kiss good-bye. She raced down the sidewalk to catch up to her classmate-friend-Permy-who was clearly not in the mood to be patient.

Permy's car was pretty nice, a sleek, reliable black sedan. It was clean, like she'd recently run it through a thorough car wash, nary a scratch or dent marring its pretty surface. It looked expensive and it probably was, since Permy's parents had very nice jobs. The girl definitely didn't live in Natsume's neighborhood, to put it delicately.

Which made it all the weirder that she'd visited his house before.

Hotaru was already in the car, sitting shotgun, so Mikan reluctantly crawled into the backseat. The car started to move before Mikan could get comfortable or even fasten her seatbelt, but Permy didn't pause or even apologize when she protested.

"You were three minutes late, Mikan," Hotaru said coldly.

Mikan sighed in relief. Given that she'd missed all her alarms, it was pretty impressive that she was able to get ready in a mere eight minutes. "Sorry," she said, but it was hard to mean it when being late had been entirely out of her control this time. "So Starbucks?"

"If we have time," Hotaru replied cryptically.

"Huh?"

"We have fucking time," Permy scoffed. "Don't be so whiny. It's fine."

Mikan didn't dislike Permy at all. If anything, she'd like to consider her a friend. They used to spend more time together in elementary school, since they were often in the same class and ran in the same circles. In middle school, though, Permy tended to be placed in more advanced classes, but, unlike Hotaru, they lived too far apart to make up for it, so they grew apart. Mikan wanted to be closer to Permy, but it was sometimes much harder reconnecting with an old friend than connecting with a new one.

They drove for a while, the only noise coming from the pop station playing on the radio.

Though Mikan had expected a quick detour through the Starbucks drive-thru, Permy apparently had other plans. She parked in a spot and then got out of the car, leaving Mikan scrambling to follow, feeling caught off-guard.

"Shouda-san," Hotaru called as they followed their driver into the cafe. "Do we really have time to stop here for long?"

"We're more than an hour early," Permy said, unbothered. "So, yeah. We have time."

She was first in line so she gave her order quickly, though not concisely by any means, adding plenty of modifications to her matcha latte.

"Anything else?" the barista asked.

She turned to Mikan and Hotaru then, gesturing to the waiting barista.

"Huh?" Mikan blinked, looking back and forth between the person at the counter and her chauffeur for the day. She knew Hotaru had mentioned something about treating them with Starbucks, but she'd just thought the treat was stopping by the place at all.

"Ugh," Permy groaned. "As if I'm gonna let poor people pay while out with me. Order."

Hotaru seemed nonplussed by the insult, her eyes glinting with the promise of a free drink. "A venti iced peach green tea, please."

The barista typed in the next part of the order and Sumire waved her hand in front of Mikan's face. "Hulloooo? Your turn, space cadet!"

Mikan scoured the menu, feeling overwhelmed by the options. She was always wondering vaguely if Permy had ever said things like that-that comment about poor people-to Natsume. After all, Mikan was not really that poor. Her family was living off two decent salaries, and Jii-chan had his savings… But Natsume had lived in such a small house in such a terrible neighborhood. And Permy had been there. She must know.

"Mikan. Your turn. Or-der."

Then she asked herself why she even cared. Because she didn't.

"Uhhh, the cookie thing," she requested, her eyes locking onto the word cookie on the menu.

"The mocha cookie crumble frappuccino?" the barista asked, eyes entirely void of interest in prolonging this interaction any further.

Mikan nodded.

"Size?"

"Uh. Venti?"

"You guys are bleeding me dry," Permy muttered under her breath, but she flipped her card out effortlessly anyway.

"I like chocolate stuff," Mikan defended, but she felt a bit guilty anyway. She'd just been thinking rather ill of Permy, hadn't she? Of course Permy could call Hotaru and Mikan poor when they clearly were not. Everyone in town was probably poor compared to her, the over-achieving daughter of a jet-setting politician and a prestigious doctor. But she probably wouldn't talk to Natsume like that. It's not like she lacked tact. Why would Natsume even care, really? Why did Mikan?

"Wow, that credit card has your name on it and everything," Hotaru said when they moved to a table to wait for their drinks. Permy was showing her shiny silver card and preening at the attention. "I have a debit card, but it doesn't have bottomless potential like that does."

"Endless money!" Mikan exclaimed, leaning her head closer to see the card herself. In blocky letters, SHOUDA SUMIRE, just to nail it home who this great power belonged to. "I wish I had one of those. I'm so jealous."

Hotaru laughed dryly. "Mikan, if you had a credit card, you'd end up in very heavy debt by the end of the first day."

Mikan pouted while Permy giggled and tucked her card away. She wanted to defend her character, but she didn't know enough about credit cards to make a strong case.

Mikan went to pick up their drinks when Permy's name was called, as a way to thank her for treating them. As soon as she pressed the final drink down on the table, Permy slapped her hands down against the glossy wooden surface. Mikan flinched before she even had the chance to sit all the way down in her chair.

"Tell me, girls!" Permy said, tone very serious. "We must address the male specimen issue of our Academic Decathlon class this year."

"What are you talking about?"

"Boys. The boys in our class."

"What a dull conversation," Hotaru said, lightly shaking her iced tea back and forth in little circles.

"It's vital," Permy insisted. "I am devastated about this year's selection. Every year it gets worse. We have Natsume-kun, who is so hot, but the rest of the newcomers are so not, that it hardly makes a difference. I mean other than Natsume-kun and Ruka-kun, who in class is even worth paying attention to?"

"The curriculum," Hotaru deadpanned just as Mikan chimed in with, "Narumi-sensei."

"Ew and ew," Permy said, making a face. "That's foul. It's a simple question. Which boy is worth a second glance? You must have an opinion. Even you, Imai."

Hotaru stared into the distance, sipping at her straw absently. After a moment of reflection, she spoke. "Iinchou is, inarguably, the biggest catch of our grade."

Permy's face went bright red almost instantly. "He's a nerd!"

"He is smart, kind, and good-looking. He's the whole package."

Mikan ducked her head down so nobody could see her smiling. It was such an honor to be there to witness Hotaru's sweet moments like this. Iinchou used to get so horribly teased in elementary school, and Mikan wasn't the only one who stood up for him. Though Hotaru wasn't known for outstanding displays of affection, she had gone above and beyond for him, always talking him up when she could.

"I agree," Mikan said. "Iinchou is the biggest catch."

"You," Permy growled, turning her attention onto her with a glare. "You had Natsume-kun in a pool, soaking in black clothes and you have the audacity to-ugh, you're impossible."

"Natsume-kun is basic," Hotaru said.

"EXCUSE ME?"

"His beauty is shallow. Unimpressive, like everything else about him. He doesn't even look like he brushes his hair."

"Yeah, his effortlessness is kinda the appeal!" Permy sounded like she was shocked she had to even explain this, like the two other girls at the table were remedial when it came to lessons in boys. "He's that amazing without even trying."

"His pathetic friend on the other hand," Hotaru said, causing Mikan to furrow her eyebrows in shock.

"Mochu?" Permy guessed.

"Ruka-kun."

"You said 'pathetic', so…"

"He is pathetic. He's a loser. A loser in pastel sweaters with a 4.0 GPA, but a loser nonetheless." Hotaru shrugged. "At least he tries. The least attractive thing a man can do is put in zero effort."

Mikan thought about how lazy her friend was, and how hypocritical that statement sounded, all things considered, but she knew if she tried bringing it up, Hotaru would easily dismiss her. This conversation was becoming truly illuminating.

"Permy," Mikan said. "You're close with Natsume right?"

The girl straightened suddenly, rosy blush dusting her cheeks. "Did he tell you that?" she asked, her eyes glimmering with hope.

"No… I just…" Mikan didn't really know what she was trying to fish for, but she knew she was fishing. "Like, you've been to his house?"

Permy blinked in confusion. "To Natsume-kun's house? Yeah. A few times. Why?"

Now it was Mikan's turn to be confused. "Well… why would you go to his house?"

"What?"

"I mean, why…?

"We've been in study groups before and I went a few times when he'd play video games with Mochu-kun and Ruka-kun and Koko-"

"Oh."

"Why are you asking?"

"Tsubasa-senpai is pretty cute!" Mikan exclaimed, before taking a long sip of her frappuccino. She'd left it untouched for too long since this conversation had dragged her attention elsewhere. The whipped cream was looking a little sad and droopy now.

"No effort. He looks lazier than Natsume-kun somehow. Disgusting."

"How do you not get that it's part of their charm?!" Permy argued.

Mikan sat back and listened eagerly to the debate she'd started, just happy to have changed the subject from the little biting issue of Permy in Natsume's house that had been eating at her for a couple days.

It's not like she cared, either. She'd just been so curious. This was her worst enemy, after all! The person she hated more than anybody! She couldn't have him running around, keeping secrets from her.


The girls made it to Nishi with plenty of time to spare. Mikan had been to this campus before for sports games and community events, but it was different coming here for Aca Dec. In general, Nishi had lower test scores than Alice, but when it came to Aca Dec they were evenly matched. Their close proximity to each other made sure they were each other's number one rival. In a way, Nishi was to Alice what Natsume was to Mikan: a fierce nemesis.

Maybe she could mention that in her speech? She made a mental note to write that down as soon as she had access to paper.

They joined the rest of their class in the enormous Nishi library. It was easy to find them, the blob of yellow hoodies in the back, with Narumi taking roll as each decathlete entered.

"Good morning, girls!" he greeted cheerfully. "Sit anywhere!"

Hotaru sat in the one empty space beside Iinchou. Permy eagerly squeezed a chair beside Ruka and accosted him with conversation. Mikan scanned the table for somewhere to sit. There was a spot by Kusami and some empty spaces between Megane and Kaoru, but-

"Polka Dots," she heard Natsume call out.

She slowly surrendered her gaze to his direction. What the heck was he doing, showing up early? He was supposed to be late, like always, or breezing in just in time. How unlike him to be considerate of everyone else's time!

"What?"

He smiled, but Mikan wasn't fooled. He was smiling like the villain in a horror movie, like a deranged killer, like he was waiting to catch her in a trap. "I saved you a seat." He removed his backpack from the chair beside him and gestured to it. It seemed innocent enough, just a chair between him and Mochu, saved perfectly for her.

As if Mikan would fall for that!

She crossed her arms, intent on not playing along with his games. She could sit by Kusami, actually. They were both Varsities, after all, so there was no harm in-

"Would you look at that!" a foul little voice declared from behind her. She jumped in displeasure and squeaked, only to run to the seat Natsume had saved for her, sitting down unceremoniously and ignoring the bewildered expression on his face, an expression she'd usually relish. "Sakura Mikan, you haven't given up yet?"

Mikan kept her head ducked down, her face flushing hot in embarrassment.

Though the Alice class had been lost in a world of idle chatter and last-minute cramming before they took seven tests back-to-back, one word from Koizumi Luna had them all at attention.

"Wow, so somber!" she teased. "And here I thought yellow was such a cheerful color!" She smiled brightly but nobody was stupid enough to be fooled by that. Her hair looked effortlessly silky today, just like it had last year, and Mikan comforted herself by remembering Hotaru's declaration about lack of effort… Though that had been specifically about men, hadn't it? Luna was decked out in the usual white and black color scheme of her school, wearing a letterman jacket with the kanji for Nishi embroidered on the sleeve. She looked great.

"Scram, uggo!" Koko spat at her, his usual mysterious grin fading a little at her arrival.

"So rude," she said with a pout. Mikan could feel her gaze on her once again. "Sakura-san, you're being really rude not greeting me, you know."

At Scrimmage, the scores aren't secret. How could they be? It's a competition. The point is to score high. Luna had gotten very high scores last November. Mikan could remember how the Nishi table had screamed with pride when she was announced as the second-highest scorer at the Scrimmage. Mikan, on the other hand, had one of the lowest scores at the event. That wasn't usually something the organizers would announce, but somehow Luna had gotten a chance to glimpse the individual scores and upon seeing an Alice student at the depths of incompetency, she'd wasted no time before strutting over to gloat, to make it clear to everyone how stupid Mikan was.

Then, at Regionals, she'd laughed uncontrollably at the mere sight of her, pointing and howling and finally wheezing out, "They actually let you compete?! How humiliating!"

Yes, it had been.

Now Mikan was here again, in front of Luna, probably destined to get torn apart by her for the second year in a row. Ready for round two.

"Hello, Luna," Mikan said morosely, keeping her gaze on her binder.

She had no idea where Narumi was. Usually Luna wouldn't act like this in the presence of a teacher, but he'd probably run off to debrief with other Aca Dec coaches. There was no clique tighter than those of the Aca Dec coaches in their region.

"I'm so impressed with your can-do attitude," Luna said. "If only you could stay in high school Aca Dec for another fifteen years. Maybe then you'd finally end up on the competition team? Then again, if anyone could stay in high school that long, I'm sure it would be you."

"Don't be mean," Mikan heard Koko say. "I mean someone had to have the lowest scores. And hers were barely lower than mine-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Natsume asked and Mikan had nearly forgotten she'd sat next to him at all. He'd been so eerily quiet. Really, nobody could disarm Mikan like Luna could, and in a bad way. She was scary and ruthless and cruel. At the Regional Awards Banquet last year, Mikan had actually run away and locked herself in a bathroom stall for twenty minutes when she'd spotted Luna with the other Nishi kids at their table. When Luna was around, all Mikan could really think was, "GET AWAY!"

"Oh?" Luna's hand was suddenly in front of Mikan's face, held out in offer to Natsume. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Luna. Captain of the Nishi team."

"Your team's been decided already?" Iinchou asked.

Luna shook her head. "I know I'll be Captain again. I know."

Iinchou was a good person, Mikan decided. As silly as his modesty was, it was wholesome and endearing. He never assumed he'd be on A Team again, or be named Captain even though he deserved it. No matter what, he never took his accomplishments for granted, which was probably why everyone was so fond of him. But Luna just assumed she'd be placed in command of her team again. No way a newcomer might show their mettle? No way another peer might do the job better? No, it must be her. She just knew.

Her hand was still waiting for Natsume's, but his stayed under the table. She withdrew after a painfully long moment. "Your name?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I very much would, actually."

"So what?"

"Yo, Natsume, you're actually early to something for once!" Everyone in the Alice class turned to glare at Tsubasa, who had arrived in the middle of a dramatic confrontation. He hadn't seemed to notice the frost in the air. He had held up his hand for Natsume to high five without even glancing at Luna standing there. When she did catch his eye, his hand fell, and so did his jaw. "Oh, it's you again."

Nobody liked Luna.

"Natsume-kun, huh?" she rejoiced, cocking her head to the side. "I'm looking forward to seeing how you compete today, Natsume-kun. And, Sakura-san, I'm so glad Alice High is still taking you on as its charity case, though it'll probably cost them again just like it did last year." She waved, by all accounts friendly and cheerful on the surface before screwing off to her own class's table.

Mikan hit her head against her binder.

"Well, I was just catching up with Misaki for a bit, and I guess I didn't notice Luna at all," Tsubasa was saying.

But wasn't like attracted to like? How come Natsume had seemed so put off by Luna? They seemed to have one huge thing in common: hating Mikan. If anything, that should have been the window to a beautiful new friendship, and yet…

Maybe it was just impossible to like Luna, no matter what. Maybe not even Natsume could like her.

Though she certainly seemed to like him

Mikan kept her face down, breathing in the smell of her beloved Art curriculum, seasoned with highlighter and the telltale warmth of paper. She didn't wanna cry like that, so easily.

"Polka Dots," Natsume whispered. Mikan peeked one eye open. Apparently most of their classmates had continued with their studying and chats, but Natsume's head was resting over his folded arms, so he was ducked low to the table, on the same level as her.

She sniffed in response.

"I hope you've been studying," he said.

"I have."

"Really? I don't believe you."

"I have!"

"I studied more than you. I know that for a fact."

"I already said I'd destroy you on A Team, didn't I? I meant it! I'm not giving up!"

"Hmm? I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?" he mused. She noticed for the first time that their elbows were pressed against each other through the fabric of their yellow hoodies. She didn't really mind. "But I think I'll beat you. Maybe I'll even beat you in Art."

"You'd like that. But no."

Mikan didn't even notice how or when, but the sprouting of tears in her eyes had dried up, the shameful red in her cheeks had dispersed, the tightness in her chest had vanished. In no time at all, Mikan forgot about Luna entirely.


"This wasn't innocent," Natsume whispered to her after their table's Science tests had been collected. "I actually wanted you next to me for a reason."

"I figured," Mikan retorted, unamused, refusing to look at him. He didn't deserve her full attention. "What is it? I don't see a whoopie cushion."

"What do I look like? Koko?" (The mentioned boy perked up at the sound of his name and called, "You rang?" only to be promptly ignored and talked over.) "Why the hell would I pull something like that? I'm not a toddler like you."

"I don't know. You're immature enough. You ate my chicken and broke our truce. That wasn't mature."

"You pushed me in a pool."

"You told on me."

"You peed yourself."

"You tripped me!"

"I wanted you next to me so I could make sure you were focused. I need to beat you fair and square. Not that it's gonna be hard, but I have to make sure." He raised an eyebrow. "So? How'd Science go?"

"Great," Mikan lied. "I'm really confident in Science."

He hummed. "Me too. I'm great at Science."

"Really?" Mochu whined from the other side of Mikan. "Because I did not feel confident in that test. I was studying Science the most too, but I don't think… I don't think I did well."

"Well, I did great," Mikan emphasized.

"We'll see," Natsume said.

"They probably both did terribly," she heard Hotaru mutter from across the table.

After the Econ test, when their packets had been collected, Mikan stuck her tongue out at him so he could see.

"Nailed it," she said.

"Failed it, you mean," he corrected.

"Why'd you need me next to you again?"

"I have my best friend on one side," he said, gesturing lazily to Ruka. "And my enemy on the other. Keeps me humble. It makes it fair."

"Please please please leave me out of this," Ruka pleaded.

"Not fair to me," Mikan argued. "If you wanted it fair then Hotaru should've been on my other side and not Mochu."

Mochu lifted his hands in surprise. "Hey, what did I do?"

"Are you kidding? Ruka keeps me grounded. If you were next to your weirdo robot friend, you'd be distracted, and that wouldn't be fair. I'd win by default."

"No, I wouldn't! I wouldn't lose and I wouldn't be distracted. Hotaru keeps me grounded too!"

"You'd be distracted, probably," Mochu said, but he didn't seem invested in the conversation anymore, leaning his chin on his palm as he moped about the tests.

"Then again, it's hard to imagine you focused at all."

"Not true. I have been focused all day." As if to prove her point she narrowed her eyes and turned to face her nemesis. As if to prove his, he fully faced her.

"You don't seem focused to me."

"You don't seem focused."

"I don't have to be. I said I wanted to even the playing field. If I'm focused, then it's not fair to you. I'm being a generous opponent." She felt dizzy from how close he was, at all the little shades of her least favorite color in his elegantly-shaped eyes, at all the long eyelashes lining them.

"I'll definitely beat you in Lang Lit."

"You seem sure."

"No contest."

"Who's Ezra Pound?" he asked.

Cheap. Scoundrel.

"A Nazi!" she answered confidently.

Too confidently.

She spoke too loudly and many heads turned toward her, affronted by her use of such a powerful word. She smiled awkwardly but had nothing to say in defense.

Eventually, the heads turned back to their own business, waiting for their tests to get collected or studying before the next subject test.

Mikan turned back to Natsume, shocked at how close she'd permitted them to get. But she'd been right the other night, after all. This was an escalation of their game, a new level. The staring contest had lost its oomph, maybe after she'd lost her bet with Hotaru. They'd needed something new, a new game of chicken, and that was this.

A small part of Mikan wondered what the next level after this might be. What if this loses its oomph too? What then? What will we play chicken over next? She ignored that question, and silenced that part of her.

He shook his head. "No, he was a Nazi collaborator."

"How is that different from being a Nazi?"

He didn't answer right away, so Mikan took that as a victory.

"Anyway, he's a Modernist poet."

"You said he was a Nazi!"

"He was. He was both a poet and a Nazi."

"How come they let him become so popular though? Why'd they all agree to read Nazi poetry?"

"I don't think you're going to do very well on the Lang Lit test or the Social Science at this rate," he replied snidely. "Seeing as you're talking about him as though it's at all relevant that he eventually became a Nazi when we're discussing World War One, a time before the existence of Nazis."

They were too close. She could feel his breath on his face. Their elbows were pressed together. If she wanted she could headbutt him. She really wanted to headbutt him.

Instead, they got handed their Lang Lit tests and both Natsume and Mikan were forced to turn away from each other at the same time. They took their tests and Mikan pretended like she couldn't hear the quiet way he was breathing or the sure, confident strokes he'd make with his pencil. She remembered throughout the years they'd known each other, thinking back on all the times they'd been forced to sit together like this, how effortless he'd always been about everything. Natsume was never insecure about anything. He was always right and always perfect and always good at everything and that just made Mikan hate him even more.

Mikan always put so much effort into everything she ever did and she was never perfect at any of it.

But for some reason, as she filled out her own test, as she listened to the sound of his pencil, as she felt his stupid elbow brush against hers, she didn't feel resentment this time. He could be as perfect as he wanted.

She'd beat him somehow. They both needed her to. Fair and square.


After four of the seven objective tests they would take at Scrimmage, all the kids in the library were treated to pizza lunch with a predetermined side of salad or chips. Mikan had, of course, circled pepperoni pizza with chips on her slip. She was unsurprised to see Hotaru, who had collected her plain cheese pizza, only to sprinkle some crab meat on top that she'd brought from home. Apparently Natsume was also a pepperoni pizza kind of guy.

They sat beside each other during lunch, with identical plates, and Mikan pretended like she simply didn't notice they had the exact same taste when it came to Scrimmage lunches.

They'd already bickered about the Math test, the last test before lunch, directly after said test and while waiting in line for their pizza, so now the only thing they could do was try to one-up each other when it came to Social Science.

Spewing dates. Regurgitating factoids. Name dropping notable people. Natsume even named a tank out of the blue. Mikan really wanted to headbutt him for that one. And she could have. They were, after all, still next to each other, still facing each other, still refusing to be the first to look away.

She wanted to headbutt him.

Until Ruka mumbled, "Natsume, hold on, I don't get this," and then suddenly, without hesitation, Natsume had spun around to face Ruka. And Mikan found herself staring at the back of his head, heard him explain a concept to Ruka that Mikan also didn't get but would never ask him to explain for her.

She wanted to throw another factoid at him. Say, "Oh, yeah, well June 28th, 1914!" just to have him spit back, "November 11th, 1918!"

But she didn't. And he didn't. She turned back to her curriculum. For some reason she felt silly and ashamed. She felt like she'd been robbed of something she shouldn't even want in the first place. For the rest of lunch, she sat quietly, studying, or at least trying to, ignoring the sharp little pinpricks in her gut whenever she glanced up to see that Natsume still had his back to her.

They took their Social Science tests.

The teacher came to collect the scantrons and just as Mikan was about to sink back into that lonely feeling, Natsume whispered into her ear, "I beat you again."

Just as she looked up at him, he had turned once more towards Ruka, asking him how he did.

"No, you didn't," she hissed back, reaching over to pinch his wrist.

He pinched her back. She pinched harder. Then he pinched harder. He was hurting her. She was hurting him. It was most definitely not like holding hands.

Mikan bombed Music. She never stood a chance really when she had a rudimentary understanding of what an octave was and knew very little more about music theory beyond that. She couldn't really guess about how Natsume did because they both kept promising the other that they really dominated the last test, even if it wasn't true. There was no way of knowing with him until the scores came back.

But Art? This was her time to shine. This was her moment.

"I'll remember the stupid urinal," Natsume promised her before the test began.

"Do you remember who the artist was?" To an outsider, it might sound as though she was helping him before the test, trying to spur memories of the curriculum. But no, she was trying to torment him because, apparently, Natsume hated very few things more than Fountain.

"Uncredited. Person who actually made the urinal in the first place had their work stolen. Thief in question is Marcel Douche-amp."

The test began.

Then it ended, thirty minutes and fifty questions later.

Their scantrons were collected.

They waited.

This time, they didn't tease or prod about their performance. They didn't pinch each other's wrists. They didn't bombard each other with facts.

She glanced at him. He glanced at her.

Mochu let out a loud, anguished groan as he slowly collapsed against the table. "Guys, I don't think I'm getting on A Team," he whined.

"I am," Natsume and Mikan said in unison.

"Not really helping me though," he replied.

Scrimmage went like this every year. It was like this last year, and, according to veterans like Hotaru and Tsubasa, it went like that every year before too. As soon as the tests were done, the supervising and collaborating teachers would take the Scantrons to the machine and run them all through. They'd gather the scores and organize them and find out the top scorers in each subject, in each category, on each team, and then overall. And in the meantime, the kids would sit and wait.

For all of Mikan's bragging to Natsume, she did not actually feel very confident. She felt way more kinship with Mochu's despair than with Natsume's brash arrogance, but she refused to let that show. If she failed every subject again this year, then Natsume would have to find out with everyone else when the scores were revealed and not a second sooner. She remembered his warning to her from weeks ago: "Don't let your rivals see you weak."

He was the only rival that mattered. She wouldn't let him see her weak.

Not after she'd cried in his living room.

As they waited for scores, Natsume got distracted with consoling Ruka, who was beating himself up for not studying Math as much, and was somehow convinced he couldn't make the team. Mochu was calling his mom to pick him up early, and Mikan overheard him say something like, "I don't really wanna be here when they announce scores-"

So, because there was no reason not to, Mikan wandered to where her best friends were seated and couched on her knees between them to chat. "I haven't seen you all day," she whispered in relief. "I missed you so much."

"That lunch was disgusting," Hotaru grieved. "Not even my home-brought crab was enough to save it."

"I gave you half my slice, though," Iinchou protested.

"Did you guys miss me?"

"Of course, Mikan-chan!"

"No, you would've been a distraction."

"Because of how much you love me?" Mikan asked hopefully.

"Because of how loud and grating your breath is." When Mikan huffed in agitation, Hotaru simply shrugged. "Ask Natsume-kun. I'm sure he knows exactly what I'm talking about."

"How was Natsume-kun today?" Iinchou asked politely.

"His family is in good health," Mikan answered sarcastically. "Who cares how he is?"

"Well, you were sitting next to him and you seemed to be in good spirits, so I thought maybe you were starting to get along."

"It's a lost cause, Iinchou. I hate him." When Mikan thought really hard about why he always called her Polka Dots, that searing rage and shame would come back in spades, biting at the back of her eyes until she was blinking away angry tears. When she thought about how often he'd called her ugly, or how he'd treated her during the dance in middle school, she could feel the same emotions she'd felt then revisit her, setting up shop in her stomach and chopping up her intestines to tie up into some kind of weapon. When she thought too hard of the color red, she'd become red herself, a hard stubbornness telling her brain, "Not in a million years are we ever wearing that color again." When she thought about how close he'd been Thursday night, or about the feeling of his umbrella shielding her from the rain, the way he poured juice for her in a Winnie Pooh glass, or the fact that it was him who had inspired her to finally write her speech, all of the other feelings went away. She felt confused, mainly, but also strangely calm, like after all this time it only made sense that they'd find this balance together.

In short, she hated him. She was comfortable around him. He was her nemesis, her biggest muse. She didn't want to be around him. She needed him. People without enemies simply wouldn't get it.

Turns out Iinchou and Hotaru were no fun to talk to after all that testing. They were going back and forth about the specific Math problems on the test, asking about formulas and answers and Mikan couldn't remember anything from the Math test except for her anguish taking it, so, realizing she'd have more fun elsewhere, she got off her knees to talk to somebody else.

She sat beside Tsubasa, who had an empty seat next to him since everyone was standing up and moving around now.

"Yo, wassup!" he greeted.

"How'd you do?" she asked.

"Damn, can't anybody in this class go a second without taking about stupid tests?"

"That's the whole point of the class, though."

"True enough." He leaned back in his seat. "You sat next to Natsume, though! Willingly! That was cool."

"Willingly," Mikan mocked under her breath. "I was forced, senpai. He wouldn't leave me alone about it."

"Alright. Still, it's nice that you two are becoming friends."

Mikan didn't even have the energy to argue with him about that. "So how'd you do?"

"Terrible at Math. I'm happy we all were, though. Decent at Econ. I felt like I could actually answer the questions which was a relief. Surprisingly good at Social Science. What about you?"

"Great," Mikan said with a big grin. "Across the board." She could never tell if Natsume was overhearing. He could not know how much she had struggled with certain subjects. "Listen, senpai, what'd you write for your personal statement?"

"Uh, I don't know. I went on and on about how I was trying for A Team this year. And you?"

"Same," she answered shortly. "I want to be on A Team too. I hope we can be there together."

"It's gonna be tough this year. Especially in Varsity. You guys are evenly matched, as far as I can tell. This is gonna be a close one. I don't know if anybody would be able to call it."

"Do you think I stand a chance?"

"If I bet on anyone, I'd bet on you."

Mikan smiled, but it withered away when she looked over at the Nishi table.

She hadn't even thought about going over there to greet Anna and Nonoko, the sweet girls she'd befriended last year. She had been adamant about not glancing over there all day so as to avoid making eye contact with Luna, but her guard had dropped and that was happening right now anyway.

The girl in question was sitting quietly, carefully reading through her curriculum, a little smug smile nestled on her lips. Nobody was sitting directly next to her. Anna and Nonoko were nice girls but it was impossible to be kind to a person as cruel as Luna. Tsubasa's flame Misaki was far away too, all of them keeping their distance from a girl who was certain she'd end up their captain again. Luna's gorgeous purple eyes met Mikan' and she lifted a snarky eyebrow up in challenge. She didn't have to say anything. Mikan already knew she was excited to see her lousy scores.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat and shut up!" The Nishi coach was positioned in the center of the library, holding a few sheets of paper. His name was Mr. Serio but nobody called him that. In Aca Dec circles, he was called Persona, a reference both to his supposed cruel side and to the fact that he was a literature teacher (like Narumi), who apparently had multiple Phantom of the Opera posters taped up over his classroom walls. Everyone who had ever heard of him was terrified of him. He always wore black, matching his hair and his heart. There were rumors that he'd keep food from his decathletes during the after school meets leading up to competitions, that he'd only give snacks and ramen to high-scorers as a reward. He was tough, for sure, and Mikan was happy to avoid him when she could. "The scores are ready."

Mikan gave Tsubasa a parting smile and ran back to sit beside Natsume.

"You're back," he said softly and only then did Mikan realize that she could've stayed seated beside Tsubasa without bothering anybody. Why had she moved back here?

"This is my seat," she replied, unable to give any other explanation.

He said something else but Mikan couldn't hear over Persona's booming voice. She wouldn't ask him to repeat it either, because it probably didn't matter. She folded her hands on the table and acted like the perfect decathlete.

"We're pleased to host fifteen schools this year in our little library," Persona was saying. He didn't sound pleased. "Every year Nishi High School hosts a local Academic Decathlon Scrimmage, giving kids in our area their first taste of competition in the Aca Dec season and to meet their opponents. This is, of course, an attempt at multi-school cooperation, and my students and I are overjoyed to host you every November." He waved over to his kids' table. Most of the kids waved at the sudden attention, but Luna settled her gaze on Mikan, even all the way across the room, and winked.

"In any case, the other coaches and I have worked to assemble the scores from the tests you've all diligently taken and now it's time to announce them. For each subject, we will announce the top three scorers, who will each come up to receive their place ribbons. Additionally, we will announce the highest scoring team as well as the highest scoring decathlete. Each coach will receive their team's results, so you can see your strengths and weaknesses next week at school.

"Now, let's begin." Beside him, several other Nishi teachers, perhaps chaperones, were waiting, holding colorful ribbons in anticipation of awarding them to students. "Let's begin with Social Science. The third highest scorer across the schools is Hageta Harry, from Azuma High School." Despite his affectless delivery, the Azuma High table erupted with excitement and cheers for their classmate. After Harry went to pick up his ribbon, Persona continued. "Second place is… Koizumi Luna from Nishi High School."

That was the worst part, Mikan thought to herself as she slumped in her seat. It wasn't just that Luna was mean to Mikan about how awful she scored, it was that she was so great at everything. Like Natsume, she was effortlessly brilliant.

"And first place goes to Same Boushi from Kita High School."

The announcements continued this way, with schools all over the library getting called up.

Hotaru got the number one score in Science, with Iinchou collecting third. Permy collected a second place ribbon in Music, tied with another kid from Azumi. Ruka got a Lang Lit ribbon. Nobody at their school got an Econ ribbon.

"Third place in Mathematics goes to Imai Hotaru and Hyuuga Natsume from Alice High School, since they both scored the exact same."

Mikan startled, her hands freezing in midair. She had started to clap for her friend, but Natsume was winning too, apparently, which gave her pause. He turned pointedly in his seat to face her.

"Clap for me," he commanded.

"No!" She resolutely put her hands palm down on the table. "I refuse. Besides, don't you have to go collect a ribbon?"

"Clap."

"Wouldn't it be cheap if I clapped for you only after you made me?"

"No. Clap for me."

Mikan lifted her hands up slowly and pressed them gingerly against each other so not even a sound was made. "There," she said. "Good enough?"

"You'll clap for me," he said, sounding very sure.

"I'll clap for Hotaru."

"You'll be clapping for me."

He got up and went to collect his ribbon, cheered on by the rest of the Alice table, who were all stoked to see so many of the ribbons going to their teammates. Mikan watched as both her best friend and worst enemy went up to collect ribbons. Her hands hesitated. Hatred or not, that was still a pretty big accomplishment. If she clapped now, it's not like he'd even know, right? Not that she would clap for him.

She decided to do it, to clap, for her best friend. Though she'd clapped plenty for Hotaru already and her eyes were glued to Natsume, it was definitely just Hotaru she was applauding.

She made sure she was completely still by the time the winners returned to the table. "Congrats again, Hotaru!" she yelled across the table to her friend, who was sporting a rare smile.

"You clapped," Natsume said when he took his seat beside her again, dropping his white ribbon onto the table unceremoniously.

"I clapped for Hotaru."

"We both know better than that."

Mikan just pretended like she couldn't hear him anymore, turning back to see Persona award the rest of the Math ribbons. Luna collected her fourth ribbon of the event when she was awarded second, and Mikan ramped herself up to leave. There was only one subject worth of ribbons to give out, then a couple others and then they would all leave.

"Third place in Art goes to Hageta Harry from Azuma."

Mikan clapped, feeling strangely unaffected. There was no way she was gonna win a ribbon in these scrimmages. She hadn't studied enough. Her online scores were waning and maybe that was okay. Maybe she could still make the team, even if she wasn't carrying it. She was too busy clapping and not paying attention and being okay with her own mediocrity that she didn't hear who won second place after Harry. She just clapped for the lucky soul and nodded unconsciously.

It'd been too long since lunch. She wanted to eat again. A big meal.

"Hey, moron," Natsume was saying to her. She turned to him with a glare.

"What."

"Go get your ribbon."

Mikan narrowed her eyes at him. What a cruel joke.

"Mikan!" She suddenly looked around her, at her classmates, all staring at her with surprise and delight. "You did it!"

"All that studying paid off, Mikan-chan!"

"That's so great!"

"W-What?"

"You won second," Natsume said to her. "Were you not paying attention?" She had not, in fact, been paying attention. She felt frozen somehow, in complete disbelief. Somewhere, in the back of her brain, she could hear Persona call her name impatiently, but she couldn't process it yet. "Go up and get your ribbon."

For some reason, the only thing she could bring herself to say was, "Clap for me?"

He shrugged. "We'll see if you deserve it."

Mikan went up to get her award, collecting the silky red ribbon from one of Persona's colleagues, apologizing for taking so long. She looked around herself when she was standing up there, at her opponents' eyes on her. Friendly acquaintances from Nishi clapped for her, smiling brightly in support. Her own table was cheering loudly, hooting and hollering. She caught Natsume's eyes. He wasn't smiling, but he was clapping, slowly, deliberately, like he'd decided maybe she did deserve it.

She sat down, gazing at her little ribbon and the golden words emblazoned on it: 2ND PLACE WINNER!

They were obviously cheap, mass purchased ribbons from some party store. They didn't even say the name of the competition on them, but her name was scribbled on the tag on the back, acting as a permanent reminder that she had won this.

"You clapped for me," Mikan said to Natsume.

"I was clapping for Hageta Harry," he corrected. "Easy mistake."

She found Luna across the room and sent her own challenge this time. Luna could come over to brag all she wanted. This year she was not at the bottom anymore. Make fun of that.


Some of the Alice and Nishi girls had arranged a sleepover for after Scrimmage, and Permy made sure to be on the forefront of those plans. It was apparently to be at her huge house, and though Mikan had originally been surprised to see Hotaru hurriedly agree to such a girlish event that she'd usually dismiss as a waste of time, she didn't miss the way Hotaru's eyes brightened at the mention of free food.

By eight o'clock, Mikan was sitting in a circle with several other girls: Hotaru and Permy from Alice, as well as Anna, Nonoko, and Nobara from the Nishi team. At the last second, Nobara had asked if their teammate Wakako could join and Permy agreed easily. Everyone was welcome, as long as it wasn't Luna. And no boys. Of course.

They were all eating burgers they'd ordered through a meal delivery service that Permy paid for. Hotaru looked positively blissed out from the food, and the other girls were getting along well. There'd been a lot of squealing and cheering over the scores. Of the Nishi girls, Nonoko scored highest overall, and she'd boasted that she even scored higher than Luna in Econ. Mikan's scores were pretty uninspiring aside from her 72% Art score. And to nobody's surprise, Hotaru had collected the highest Alice score accolade.

Eventually, the excitement died down a little and switched to a more gossipy tone.

"I really don't get Luna's arrogance," Anna was complaining. "She only ever talks about herself."

"But it's really hard to confront her about it, because she scores so high. She really is as good as she acts," Nonoko chimed in.

"I fucking hate that bitch," Permy swore, obviously uninterested in being ladylike. "She always comes around to the Alice table to make fun of us and it gets on my nerves so much."

"Yeah," Nobara agreed with a nod. "We've noticed. She's especially hard on Mikan-chan."

Mikan smiled, but grew hot at the mention of her name. She hated how obvious it was to everyone that Luna got to her. She couldn't even pretend like she was unbothered. She was very much bothered. Though Luna had gotten second scorer overall at Scrimmage, she'd made sure to come by and stir things up, paying special attention to Mikan.

"Wow, second place in Art. I bet that's the first time you've ever gotten an award in anything." That had been decidedly untrue, since Mikan had a childhood of kicking ass in sports. She had plenty of awards, medals and ribbons and trophies from soccer and track and basketball, all lining her shelves and on her wall in her bedroom. There was no point in telling Luna all that, though. She generally found herself not saying anything when Luna was around. "And third in Math," she'd said, her voice suddenly slimy as she turned to Natsume. "So close to my score. I knew to keep my eye on you."

"Who are you again?" Natsume asked coldly. Mikan almost laughed, if only she hadn't been so scared stiff.

"I'm the girl who just won, like, six ribbons."

"Oh. I wasn't paying attention."

"I'll get your attention next time."

Mikan couldn't really remember the rest of Natsume's dry conversation with Luna, especially since she decided to focus on her pretty ribbon as a method of self-comfort. It worked surprisingly well, since she didn't even notice when Luna finally left.

And now the girls were talking about her again. She always found a way to be everywhere whenever she was unwanted.

"And she seems to like Natsume-kun, which is so disgusting."

"Who's Natsume?" Wakako asked, face lighting up with interest.

Permy held up her hands excitedly. "Let me tell you."

Wakako was a newcomer to Nishi Aca Dec. She was excitable and a bit of a gossip, like Permy. They seemed to have a lot in common, in addition to being pretty bright. And being boy crazy, with their taste in boys being particularly questionable.

"He goes to our school. He's so friggin' hot. I find myself staring at him for, like, hours at a time sometimes. He's super smart and cool and has this amazing mysterious vibe."

"He sounds like a dream."

"He is! He's on our team. Plus, he's actually kinda a friend. Especially mine. Everyone likes him."

"Except me," Mikan piped in, eager to clear her name of such a heinous crime.

"Except for Mikan, who's, like, secretly in love with him."

Hotaru choked on a laugh and the Nishi girls gasped at the knowledge.

"Permy! That is not true! That could not be less true!"

"What are you talking about? You guys are always sitting together and bickering and acting all sickeningly cute. He was clapping for you, too."

"'Cause he's my teammate," Mikan explained. "And because he hates me and wants to torture me. You wouldn't get it. You don't have an enemy."

"Enemy?" Wakako echoed. "He's your enemy?"

"I hate him."

"You wanna bang him so bad it makes you look stupid," Permy said. "And you do look stupid. Pushing him in pools and shoving him and stuff. And I didn't miss you asking all those questions about him this morning or the way you two were an inch away from kissing today! I saw that!"

"We didn't kiss!"

"You almost did."

Mikan was starting to feel sick, like there was something churning and fluttering in her stomach. Her face was hot and red and her heart was beating fast. She recognized these quickly as signs of revulsion. "Please stop lying about me, I'm starting to feel nauseous."

"Nauseated," Hotaru corrected instantly. "You do talk about him all the time. I suspect Permy might be onto something."

Wakako giggled loudly, rubbing her hands together like a Disney movie villain. "Oh my God! The drama in your class is so delicious! We just have Luna, who's the epitome of evil. The hottest guy in our class is Rui and he doesn't even bat for our team."

"Oh, that's sad," Mikan said. "Is he not even trying?"

"He's gay, Mikan," Hotaru said. "Your naivete will get you killed someday, I swear."

"Yeah," Anna said sheepishly, clutching a pillow to her chest. "It's fun in Aca Dec, but the boys are so dull. Hayate's an idiot and Kitsu is a real troublemaker."

"Meanwhile, you have a romance movie plot to watch in class!" Wakako said, obviously giddy. "I might scream." Mikan didn't doubt it.

"It's not a romance!" she asserted. "Natsume hates me and I hate him. Always has been, always will be. It's not my fault hate looks so much like love to other people."

"That's because they're not so different," Hotaru pointed out.

"What are you talking about? They're opposites."

"They are not opposites. The opposite of love is apathy, not hatred. Hatred isn't so different from love when you get down to it. You get self-conscious around them…"

"You get jealous easily," Anna chimed in.

"They make your heart beat fast!" Wakako squealed.

"They're all you can think about," Permy added with a smirk.

"You guys are all crazy. You could never understand. It's different from that."

"Sure," Permy said with a laugh. "Look, girl, if you wanna believe you hate him, then fine. But I promise you this: he definitely doesn't hate you."

Mikan didn't appreciate being in the middle of their gossiping, but soon enough they moved onto other topics, like the forbidden romance of Misaki and Tsubasa, or the really hot bio teacher from Nishi that Anna and Nonoko were obsessed with. She eagerly joined in those conversations, giving as good as she got.

But Permy's words didn't leave her mind, not even when she was trying to fall asleep later that night, not when she got up the next morning, and not even by the time she was walking to school Monday morning.

He definitely doesn't hate you.


Monday went by with agonizing slowness, draining all of Mikan's attention away from classes. She was shaking all day, nervous with anticipation for Aca Dec. Today was the big day, when they'd all learn definitely which team they ended up on.

Though she wasn't worried for Hotaru or Iinchou, she was definitely worried for herself. Today she'd discover if she'd spend the rest of the year studying and traveling and arguing with Natsume on a plane, or if she'd end up staying in that classroom while A Team went to Tokyo.

Aca Dec, the class at the end of the day, could not come soon enough. It did not come soon. It took its time, creeping by slowly until finally Mikan was rushing into the classroom, greeting a cheery Narumi and joining her friends at the front.

"Are you excited for the results, Mikan-chan?" Iinchou asked her brightly. "I'm worried, myself."

"Why?"

"Everyone performed so well…"

"Don't be worried for yourself," Hotaru commanded. "Worry for Ruka-kun. He doesn't stand a chance. It's pathetic."

"Well, his speech was pretty good-"

"Animal testing? Give me a break."

"Worry about me!" Mikan hissed. "I'm the one going through it right now."

"Why? Your speech is good."

"But my scores aren't!"

"You did so well in Art-"

"That's all I did well in! God, I don't stand a chance. Why did I even think I could compete? This is so stressful." She was embarrassed, too, since she'd practically begged Narumi to put her on the team in her personal statement. Knowing she was probably going to be pushed onto B Team made that begging even more humiliating.

Mikan waited anxiously for class to start, tapping her nails on her desk incessantly, earning Hotaru's ire and Iinchou's intense concern. When the bell finally rang and Narumi finally called the class to attention, holding a sheet of paper in the front with a huge smile on his mouth.

"Hello, decathletes," he greeted. "It was a pleasure seeing all of you on Saturday at Nishi. You all did so well and put your all into the tests and I am very proud of each and every one of you." He looked around the room as he said that, as if to drive the point home. "But you know today's the day we finalize teams. It's not an easy decision, but I picked the people who I truly believed would take our team the farthest. Please don't think I take this choice lightly. It's not personal if you don't get on the competition team but really wanted to be on it. I'm sure both teams will perform very well in competitions."

Mikan's fingers rapped quicker and quicker on her desk. She only stopped when Hotaru reached her hand out to cover hers. It seemed like a sweet gesture at first, until Hotaru's hand tightened its grip and Mikan was wincing in pain, pulling her poor hand out of the grasp.

"Without further ado, here are my choices for the A Team this year:

"For Honors, we have Tobita Yuu, Imai Hotaru, and Nogi Ruka!" The class applauded politely.

"That's so great, you guys!" Mikan whispered to her best friends, rubbing gently at her injured hand.

Hotaru merely shrugged. "I am not surprised. Though I am mildly interested in how exactly Ruka-kun made the cut."

"Well, he's really smart and did super well in Lang Lit-"

"For Scholastic, we have Shouda Sumire, Ando Tsubasa, and Mochiage Mochu!" A further spurt of applause followed, but it wasn't hard to miss the other Scholastics who hadn't made the cut looking downcast and morose. Mikan turned to Tsubasa and sent him a thumbs up in support. He winked back at her and grinned. He worked hard and deserved the placement. Permy getting on wasn't so much of a surprise though. "And for Varsity-"

Mikan squeaked and then ducked her head down under her desk, taking refuge there to keep herself safe. She couldn't remember the last time she'd wanted something so bad. Her heart was thudding in her chest loud enough to boom in her ears and her breath was racing, like there was a limited supply of oxygen in the air.

"I am pleased to welcome all newcomers this year, with Hyuuga Natsume, Yome Koko, and Sakura Mikan!"

Mikan jolted to sit back up again, forgetting that her head was under the table, resulting in a nasty collision. Groaning in pain, she carefully extracted her head from under the desk to look up at Narumi, who was clapping excitedly for her. Iinchou was grabbing at her hand and whispering delighted congratulations and even Hotaru was smiling at her.

Mikan felt her face get pleasantly warm. Without thinking, she turned to where Natsume was sitting at the back of the class. He merely looked back at her, refusing to answer her sly smile with one of his own, but she knew he felt the same way.

She needed to be on A Team and he wouldn't want to be on A Team without her. This worked out for both of them.

But the rest of the year would be spent side-by-side with this boy she'd hated her whole life.

The B Team positions were announced and then Narumi split the class up according to teams to arrange captains and a studying plan.

The nine A Team members were seated in a circle of desks. Mikan could overhear B Team deciding on Kaoru as their captain, which made sense since he'd been so good at all the subjects. She wondered how on Earth she'd managed to get on the team when Kaoru had seemed like such an obvious pick. In all her speculative team planning before, Kaoru had always been a sure Varsity choice and yet… He was on B Team.

"I nominate Iinchou as Captain again," Hotaru said from beside her.

Mikan raised her hand with a smile. "Notion seconded."

"Is this even a conversation?" Sumire asked from across the table, where she was seated between Ruka and Mochu. "Do we really have to waste time voting when we all know already we want IInchou as Captain and Imai as Co?"

Apparently they did, but the results were just as Sumire predicted. The inevitability of the election results did nothing to assuage the tint on Iinchou's cheeks, though. He kept blushing throughout the rest of class, even as he and Hotaru led the discussion on study planning.

Natsume was seated a couple desks away from her, but he was still in viewing range and Mikan couldn't help but look at him as she processed the fact that she was in this desk cluster as opposed to the one across the room, or the teeny cluster for the Assistant Coaches who hadn't gotten on either team.

After close she approached him, towering over where he was seated, putting his stuff away.

"Congratulations," she said, trying to keep her face blank.

"Likewise," he replied.

"About that," Mikan started, averting eye contact. "I just wanted to get this over with. Thank you. You pushed me to write my speech and to change my personal statement and if you hadn't done that, I definitely wouldn't be on A Team right now, so thanks." She nodded, having blurted out her piece. "Anyway, that's all-"

"You got a second place ribbon at Scrimmage," Natsume said, stilling her momentarily. "Don't give me credit for that. Very un-enemy-like of you."

"Still! You-" Inspired me? Motivated me? Made me believe in myself again? Reinvigorated me? "You… helped."

"Whatever," was all he had to say to that, so Mikan nodded once more and turned away to speed out of the room.

On her way home she wondered how Natsume could stand to be so weird all the time. She never knew what mood she'd catch him in, whether he'd be testy and quiet or bemused and teasing or whatever this was. Was she supposed to be able to read him? Was that some perk of enemyship she had yet to uncover? Could he read her?

Probably.

As she walked in the chilly November weather (at least the rain had subsided for today), she decided Natsume required as much study and dedication to deal with as Academic Decathlon. He too seemed daunting and intimidating to people on the outside. But Mikan knew better, she decided. She had him all figured out.

Ten subjects. Seven objective truths. Three objective feelings.

He is mean. An objective fact.

He is snarky. Objective.

He is weird. Especially on days like this. Fact.

He is scary. Well, he could be. A threat. A menace. She was ninety-five percent sure he was no threat to her physically but he was certainly a threat to her Aca Dec standing now, and that made him even a little terrifying. Embarrassing, but objective.

He is a loner. Regardless of his few friends and countless irrational admirers, he tended to be on his own, and even when he wasn't, he liked to be quiet. Fact.

He is smart. She reluctantly acknowledged that one. He was intelligent, after all. He got on A Team putting in minimal effort and his speech idea was good and he'd always been great at school… Sadly, this was a fact.

He is… beautiful. Nobody was around and she wasn't saying it out loud so no one could ever know she had ever thought this. It would be the one and only time she ever admitted it. She hated him, but she wasn't blind. He had very soft-looking, black hair, and his long, pretty eyelashes could be breathtaking from time to time. Objective fact.

And then those three subjectives which were unmistakably true to her but not universal for whatever reason: I hate him. I am not attracted to him. I can beat him.

The Hyuuga Natsume Decathlon, a rigorous competition between the heroic Mikan and her nasty childhood enemy, which would be at its head this year on the A Team.

Like in Aca Dec, there was only one way to win, and that was by standing by the seven objective principles, as well as staying true to the three subjectives. She'd win. She'd beat him. She could already see the look on his face when her scores surpassed his. She could not wait.


"I hate and love. And why, perhaps you'll ask? I don't know; but I feel and I am tormented." -Catullus