A/N: HELLLOOOOO! i've been meaning to update earlier, but a lot of stuff happened, including me realizing i might have a medical issue (that i havent really done anything about due to a chronic issue regarding my passivity towards everything in my life) in addition to a pretty bad incident involving a red bull after a very fun day and just a bunch of emotional exhaustion!
but this chapter is a long time coming and i'm sure lots of you have been anticipating it. i'm a bit torn on some parts, but i kinda just wanna send it out and move on so thats what im doing. i hope you guys like this new perspective!
Academic Decathlon Subject VIII: Essay. Demonstration of Knowledge and Critical Thinking in Timed Writing Contest, Utilizing Information from Science, Social Science, or Language and Literature Curriculum in Response to Random Prompt.
Hyuuga Natsume Decathlon Subject VIII: Intelligence. Appearance of Mastery in Every Subject, Regardless of Time or Familiarity. He Always Seems to Know Best.
Academic Decathlon Prefecture Competition in Kyoto
"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves." - Federico García Lorca, Bodas de sangre.
It wasn't something you could put a timestamp on, to say the exact moment when it happened, down to the very second. It would probably be impossible to say for sure.
But he knew it wasn't at first sight, that's for sure.
He wasn't quiet because he was shy. He was quiet because he couldn't care less. If someone came up to him and wanted to stick around, he wouldn't mind, but it never occurred to him to fiddle with his fingers and ask somebody if they wanted to play. He just did whatever he wanted, and if someone joined in, they were welcome to.
He hadn't even had to approach Ruka, who he'd known since daycare as a toddler. As far as he could remember, he'd been playing with the toy blocks in the corner of the room one day when a blond boy plopped down beside him and contributed to the construction of a rather impressive manor and then the kid never left. Some relationships were effortless, he figured. Some people just understood every inch of your soul perfectly, like every thought in your brain was in a language they spoke fluently. Ruka almost made him believe in telepathy. He could be sitting all the way across a room, but if he looked up and met his best friend's eyes, he could be sure Ruka knew exactly what was on his mind. They'd never even had a fight, not even a little one, in around thirteen years of friendship.
Not all relationships were easy, though.
Natsume had been called on to stay after class one day when he was five, and at first he assumed he was in trouble, that the teacher had somehow found out about him tripping that second-grader before school, but he'd been dead wrong.
"Natsume-chan, I'm very happy you stayed after class to see me," Serina-sensei said sweetly. She looked a bit silly sitting in that little chair so close to the ground. Natsume guessed it was one of those teacherly tactics to make kids feel like adults were equals, but it really just made her look stupid. "I called you to stay because I've been a bit concerned lately about one of your classmates, our friend Mikan-chan. Do you know Mikan-chan?"
Natsume shrugged. He'd seen her around. He hadn't paid much attention to her on purpose but it was hard to ignore her when she was always throwing tantrums or screaming out her laughs with ear-piercing volume. He couldn't really see how that annoying girl had anything to do with him.
"Mikan-chan is a very sweet girl," Serina-sensei continued. "She's nice and kind and helpful, but she also has a little problem about being loud and speaking out of turn, and sometimes has issues controlling her temper." Understatement of the year, Natsume thought. The girl had just that morning started shouting at Mochu for getting to the dollhouse before her. "You're always so quiet and neat and well-behaved, so I thought maybe you could be a good influence on Mikan-chan."
Natsume's jaw dropped. "Uh-I don't know. I'm kinda busy."
"It won't take extra work. I just want you to look after her, do you understand? I want you two to be partners. You can work together when we do group-work and you can help her learn to color. I know you love to color. How does that sound?"
Awful. Horrible. Waste of time. That girl was a lost cause. "I guess…"
"Wonderful!"
And with that, Natsume was assigned Sakura Mikan's partner. He assumed it would be worse than Serina-sensei made it sound. But it managed somehow to be much worse than he ever could have guessed.
Serina-sensei switched up the seating chart just for this occasion, separating Natsume from his beloved best friend and moving him to the annoying table (what he called it in his head), where Mikan sat with the Permy girl and Mochu and that robot-girl who never showed any emotions. Right at the next table was Koko, and that corner of the room seemed to be ten times louder than the rest of the room altogether.
Natsume replaced the robot girl, and he could tell right away that the move was a mistake because Mikan was furious about that. Not that he was any happier.
"Mikan-chan," Serina-sensei said to her, kneeling down to speak softly. "I moved Natsume-chan here because I thought you two could work well together. Sometimes, when we get upset, it's nice to have someone nearby who can calm us down, right?" Mikan nodded sagely but Natsume knew she was full of it. "Sometimes, you get excited, and Natsume-chan is very shy, so I thought putting you two together could help both of you."
Mikan pouted but there was nothing either of them could do about the situation anymore.
Following that, they were always in each other's orbit, mostly because Natsume had no say in the matter. His job was to keep her in check, and that was hard to do.
One time, she'd been building a strange structure out of dominoes. It looked like crap but the real problem was that she had decided to build said structure in the middle of the play area, where there was high traffic. Natsume had simply turned around and had inadvertently kicked some of the dominoes over. He didn't think it was a big deal, but he was about to say sorry or something close when she started throwing one of her signature tantrums.
"YOU AWFUL FOX! I HATE YOU!"
Apologizing was now completely out of the question. If she wanted to be brat, then he could be a brat too. He kicked the dominos again, this time with force and intent. He made a promise to himself to destroy every building she ever built until he died.
He resented being chosen as her chaperone. There were plenty of quiet kids in their class who were more patient and kind than he was. There was Yuu, who was especially quiet and well-behaved who would have been the perfect pick. The robot girl was also quiet, and though he personally thought she was incapable of kindness, she also seemed incapable of losing her temper, which would make her perfect to deal with Mikan.
But Natsume? Natsume may have been quiet, but he was also pretty emotional, and if Mikan pushed him, he was always ready to push back. If she called him a name, he was ready with an insult of his own. He didn't normally consider himself a snitch, but being forced into the position of looking over her made him bitter, and if she ever stepped out of line, he'd raise his hand out of spite just to humiliate her.
He never acted this way with any other kid. Not even his insufferable little sister. His little sister, who (in her toddler phase of stupidity) assumed that Mikan was his girlfriend because the only thing he ever talked about when asked about school was her. But that was ridiculous. Mikan was intolerable. She'd probably die alone, just like she deserved, screaming and shouting as she went.
What he really didn't understand was why anyone would want to spend any time with her. Serina-sensei had called her sweet, but Natsume couldn't see why. She was just annoying, screeching like a banshee at every slight inconvenience and assuming the worst out of people. What was there to like?
One day, though, Natsume started to see a bit of what Serina-sensei was talking about. He's been watching her during recess, just a bit, because it was his job. He was pretty bad at keeping an eye on her because he was way more interested in playing basketball or Cops and Robbers with the boys, but this time she was just interesting enough to watch. She'd been playing a hide-and-seek/tag hybrid game with her little friends. She was really good at it, running faster than anybody and with a lot more enthusiasm. She treated the game like it was real, like it had consequences she wasn't willing to pay. She hid really well and ran like the wind, keeping her a champion. Nobody else stood a chance. If she was just a bit less annoying, maybe he would've even rooted for her.
Then, Yuu tripped and fell and skidded his knee on the asphalt. It wasn't that bad of a cut, but it must have hurt because the kid started crying, and Mochu, who was It at the time, kept asking if he was okay, only to get drowned out by the sobs.
Mikan ran out of her perfect hiding place, ruining her chances of winning, and flew to Yuu's side, petting his hair and speaking softly and reassuringly, promising him that everything was going to be okay while Mochu called over an adult.
Natsume watched it all, awestruck as the girl he hated most in the world took care of a kid and ruined her chances of winning the game she always took seriously. Natsume wasn't sure if he would've done that, just for a bloody knee.
The next day, Natsume assumed stupidly that maybe Mikan had experienced some kind of personality shift, that she had turned over a new leaf entirely and discovered the power of speaking softly.
But no.
That day she'd been just as horrible as usual, hogging the markers and kicking his shin under the table until his leg was littered in little bruises. He gave as good as he got, of course, and assumed she was back to normal. But he was watching this time, and he could see that Mikan was actually very nice to other kids. Sure, she threw tantrums sometimes when she didn't get her way, but she was always smiling around her scary best friend and incredibly sweet to kids like Yuu.
It wasn't Mikan's personality then. She just acted like that because she hated Natsume specially. For some reason, that really bothered him, and the only way he could show her that was by upping his game.
From then on, instead of simply getting yelled at by Mikan or telling on her whenever she went too far, he escalated situations on purpose, ticking her off and bugging her until she exploded, pushing all her buttons and making her cry.
If she hated him so much, then fine. He was going to give her a reason to.
Natsume woke up at four in the morning with a raging headache and a desire to finally acquiesce to Mikan's summertime demands and quit this stupid Academic Decathlon stuff. He didn't even mind the idea of taking Ceramics again, even though the teacher was a moron.
He didn't quit, though. He got up begrudgingly, going through all the motions of a normal day, except for hours in advance, cleaning up and freshening up and getting dressed until he was out the door and in Mochu's dad's car within the next half hour, his stomach grumbling and his eyelids heavy.
"You can sleep on the bus," Ruka promised from beside him. "The trip will be plenty long enough for you to rest."
Natsume wafted in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes, as Koko crawled into the car and then eventually they ended up at school, where the rest of the team was already waiting. Mochu's dad was excited to mean Naru for some fucking reason, so he parked and that gave them plenty of time to slowly extract their luggage from the trunk to then drag all the way to the school steps.
When he was done dragging his own bag, Natsume collapsed against the steps, yawning and fantasizing about sleep. The sky was still dark, and he mused that it was backwards to be awake when the world was telling him it was nighttime.
He felt someone sit beside him and when he opened one eye to see who it was, he had to hold back a sleepy smile. Mikan.
"Good morning!" she said with way too much cheer in her voice for nearly five in the morning. "I hope you got enough sleep."
"Nope. Not even close." He was on the brink of passing out at that very moment.
"Me neither. I was up pretty late, studying and-I guess the nerves got to me, because I couldn't stop freaking out. It was really hard to fall asleep, so, in order to pass the time, I… drew something."
Natsume raised an eyebrow, now fully looking at her. Her cheeks were pink.
"Here," she said, handing over a folded up piece of notebook paper. "I'm no artist, and it's definitely not as good as yours, but it helped me fall asleep."
Natsume opened up the paper and snorted out a laugh at the weirdest looking pig he'd ever seen. It was shaded aggressively, and with no consideration for a potential light source. OINK was scribbled over and over again all over the drawing, and she'd written "You, actually," with an arrow pointing to the pig. The pig itself had ears that were too big for its head, and legs that were too small.
It was amazing.
"I don't think art school is in your future," he snarked. "I wouldn't quit my day job if I were you."
"I didn't say it was any good," Mikan insisted. "I didn't even try that hard."
"I like it," he said, folding it up again and sliding it into his jacket pocket. "This will be my good luck token for tomorrow."
"Yeah right," she said, cheeks still pink.
They didn't say much more than that, but when the bus finally came around and the team boarded, she sat beside him without asking or being asked. This time, he let himself smile.
He would never have said that he liked her. It wasn't affection that made him so angry at her hatred of him. That wouldn't make any sense. Instead, it was the injustice of it all that pissed him off. He was pretty sure of that.
Until one time, when they were once again forced to work together on an asinine project, this time assembling a glittery greeting card for some random high-schooler who was supposed to stop by in a week or two for a class visit. Natsume was only invested insofar as it offended Mikan. Her eyebrows were furrowed in frustration and her eyes glistened with angry tears, not for any spectacular reason but just because Natsume had insisted she not draw sunglasses on the sun. He'd already let her draw the stupid sun in the corner-he wasn't going to let her put sunglasses on it too. That was too much.
He was using scissors to cut out star shapes for the card, his eyes glazing over with boredom. Mikan hadn't said anything for a few minutes, so his interest in this project was dissipating. He really didn't even care about the high schooler or the visit to begin with, and if he wasn't getting a rise out of Mikan, then he might as well not even try.
Then he cut himself.
He'd cut down with the scissors onto his pointer finger. He faltered for a second, watching blood well in the cut, gathering and then spilling over, staining the star he was cutting and dribbling onto the table below him. He just watched for a moment. It hardly hurt, just a dull throb in the tip of his finger, but there was quite a lot of blood.
Natsume had never really been the type to whine about wounds. He got cut and scratched up all the time from climbing trees and chasing his friends around, and he wouldn't be caught dead with tears in his eyes. Scabs and bruises were something only losers cried about. For him, it was cool.
"Oh my God, are you okay?" came a screech from beside him. He looked up blankly to see Mikan, her little face the picture of horror. "Ahhhh…" She sniffed and gathered up some of the loose scratch paper on the side, then pressed it under his finger in a feeble effort to stop the bleeding. "Serina-sensei! Serina-sensei! Help! Natsume is bleeding!"
Natsume kept his eyes glued on her the whole time. Suddenly, her fretting over his finger was a lot more fascinating than the blood or the funky shape of the cut. Her bizarre concern was far more interesting than her anger and rage and fury.
He liked it a lot.
He was sent to the nurse's office, and Mikan was sent to accompany him. There was no need for that. They'd slap a bandaid on him and send him right back to class, but he wasn't about to complain, not when Mikan was crying and petting his arm the whole way to the nurse.
"Do you feel dizzy?" she asked a thousand times, and he'd shake his head and hold back a dumbass grin that wanted to spread across his face. He'd thought it was nice of Mikan to fuss over Yuu back then, over a scraped knee, but it was much nicer to be the focus of her concern. Having her worry about him of all people had caused something akin to a flutter to manifest in his chest, and that made breathing a bit more laborious. "Next time, I'll cut the stars, okay? You should be more careful!"
Natsume was pretty sure, in hindsight, that he'd been gradually hating her less for a while before then, but if he absolutely had to pick a specific moment where it all began, it would be this one.
She probably didn't even remember.
Just like he thought, the nurse wrapped his finger in a bandage and then rushed him back to class. He'd rejected the offer of a new shirt, not minding the tiny flecks of blood on his t-shirt. As he walked back to class with Mikan, he came up with a number of plans to have this happen again. He could make himself trip, right? How many times could he stupidly end up hurt without her catching on? How many times would it take before she started being nice to him in general?
But he sat down back in class knowing full well he wasn't going to go through with it. He wasn't going to get hurt on purpose just so that she could cry and fret over him again. He had too much pride for that. Instead, he just went back to cutting the stars with the same scissors that had cut him, after throwing the bloody scraps of paper in the trash. He just acted like nothing extraordinary had happened at all.
He had fallen asleep on the steps. According to Mikan the bus took thirty minutes to arrive and he hadn't been able to last for longer than five. When he woke up, she was still sitting next to him, her hand wrapped around his wrist through the fabric of his hoodie and he'd contemplated for a moment the ethics of pretending to sleep longer, but he'd shaken that off and made a big show of yawning and waking up. Mikan's hand had whipped away faster than lightning.
She sat next to him on the bus. He didn't even have to ask. She had been prattling at him about all the things she did last night and then when he found a place to sit, she sat beside him, still going off about every single thing she ate for dinner.
He really liked getting what he wanted without having to ask for it.
There was a moment of temptation to fall back asleep while Mikan rambled and maybe "accidentally" land his head on her shoulder, just to see if she let him, but that moment was shattered when Naru announced loudly that they'd all be having an "Aca Dec Family Breakfast" which was, romantically, at Taco Bell.
There probably weren't a lot of places that were open so early in the morning, and Natsume appreciated a cheaper option for the first meal on the trip (his dad had only given him so much pocket money for this) but it was still a rather greasy choice.
"You should order a coffee," Mikan suggested behind him in line as he blandly scrutinized the breakfast options. "So you don't fall asleep."
Did she not get that he wanted to sleep? "You should order a coffee," he retorted.
"I don't really drink coffee."
"I'll order a coffee and we can share."
"I don't drink coffee!"
Koko was called up next, rattling out some ridiculous order and Natsume decided on a couple items as he waited his turn.
"Next!"
Natsume waited for his food to come out at the tables like everyone else. The group had split up effortlessly, the team members and Narumi coming out to ten people. Iinchou sat with Narumi and Imai, discussing the imminent competition and travel schedule. Mochu, Koko, and Permy were talking about something at one table and Natsume had sat down with Ruka and Asshat at the next one over. He kept his face expressionless when Mikan eagerly slid onto the seat beside him, but it made him feel grossly warm.
"Did you guys order coffee?" she asked, interrupting whatever vital conversation Ruka was having with Asshat. Natsume hadn't been listening.
"Um… no." Ruka smiled bashfully. "I chose orange juice. Sorry?"
"But you're gonna be sleepy," Mikan whined. "I wanted us all to sing and talk on the trip."
"The trip is gonna be hours," Tsubasa informed her. "There'll be plenty of time to sing and sleep."
"Didn't you order orange juice too?" Natsume asked. He'd stuck around the cash register just long enough to overhear. She couldn't even take her own advice.
Order by order got filled, with Imai's taking the longest due to her ordering half the menu.
Natsume sat back down, his order filled after Mikan's, satisfied and eager to see Mikan's eyes widen. Just like he thought, her jaw dropped.
"Natsume, that's not coffee!"
"They call it coffee on the menu," he pointed out, taking a sip of the Cinnabon Delights Iced Coffee. She made a face, but he pointedly ignored her. "It'll perk me right up."
He started eating his breakfast, enjoying his breakfast burrito and again not listening to the conversation taking place. But he could feel someone's eyes on him, and without even glancing at her, he scooted the iced coffee closer to her so she could take a sip.
"What?" she said, pretending like she had no idea what he was doing.
"I said we could split it, right? I don't think I can drink all of it anyway."
"Oh." She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice and he watched from the corner of his eye as she took an eager sip from his straw.
My mouth was on that, he thought.
Mikan turned toward him and sighed happily. "Wow, that tastes really good," she exclaimed, her mouth curved into a smile.
My mouth was on that too.
Natsume was good at pretending. He'd always been quiet and his face didn't really give away any of his emotions (unless he was really pissed off or about to make fun of someone).
Despite this, he didn't think he was all that good at hiding his new affection for Mikan. Ruka, mindreader that he was, fluent in Natsume-speak, seemed to understand immediately that there had been a shift, his blue eyes wobbling in concern as soon as Natsume came to school after cutting his finger. Even Mochu picked up on it pretty quick in the months that followed, and Natsume had the feeling that nearly everyone he'd ever met knew.
Mikan didn't catch on. She was certainly not a mindreader and definitely not fluent in Natsume-speak. His bloody wound was forgotten almost immediately and she went right back to being an insufferable little monster, screaming and crying and making a big fuss about everything. With him, at least. She was content to smile and laugh with everyone else-never with him.
The Polka Dots incident made things easier. He got to pretend like he didn't know her name, so as to not imbue it with any undue softness that would undoubtedly accompany his voice if he ever dared to force out the two syllables. And he didn't dare.
This was the new status quo: Natsume put in half-hearted effort into acting like he couldn't stand her and Mikan stupidly fell for it every time. Even at five, he was too smart to think she would ever change her mind about him. This was how it had to be.
He loved that stupid valentine. The second he glimpsed the garishness of it, the sheer audacity, he knew that it had been made with pure hatred and spite. Not a single drop of affection was in the heart-shape, the glitter, the crude message. It was all sarcastic, all mean-spirited, all cruel. His heart had done a flip.
He made fun of her for all she was worth and got everyone nearby to join in, which made her run away to the bathroom to cry or scream or destroy school property in a Hulk-like rage. He finally had the chance to sneak his true valentine into her box, the other kids at the table distracted by the party and treats.
He'd spent a long time on it at home, visualizing her at her brightest, the side of her she never liked showing him but the side he liked best. He'd put the sun in the corner, too, just as an homage to her and her bad art skills.
She didn't see it when she came back. A few days later, she ran an interrogation on it, asking everyone about it so she could figure out who her secret admirer was. She never suspected him for a second, and that felt sadder than he wanted to admit. She shouldn't find out it was him. If she ever knew, it would only make things strange. She hated him, after all. But a part of him wanted her to know, too.
That part of him clung to the silly valentine she made, hanging it on his door first, then moving it around more and more until it was finally taped by his bed, an eternal reminder of the effort she sometimes went to for him, even if she was motivated only by disdain.
They weren't always in the same class after kindergarten. Sometimes, the only time he saw her was at recess, and that made it easier to forget about her. There would be weeks at a time that he didn't think about Polka Dots at all, busy instead with Ruka and Mochu and his neighbors. But everytime he convinced himself she was a past tense obsession, she'd end up standing right in front of him, crossing her arms and giving him a lovely glare and he'd remember all at once.
There was an invincible thread of affection in his chest for her, something tired and torn and frayed amongst his heartstrings. Time would leave it dusty before it ever snapped.
That did not mean that she didn't piss him off. He actually found himself more angry with her than otherwise, especially when they were in the same class and even more so if they were forced to interact. Some days it would really annoy him how little she tolerated him. Mostly, though he would get annoyed with himself for maintaining the status quo. If he really wanted-if he was braver-he'd be nice to her and give her a reason to be nice back. Instead he instigated fights and pressed all her buttons and humiliated her on purpose and somehow still felt hurt when she yelled at him or told him she hated him.
But there were also times when she was nice anyway, usually when he was hurt. A bloody knee or a split lip after getting punched by an upperclassman or a bruise on his elbow. A forlorn look in his eye or an uncomfortable sniff or some other emotion he let slip against his will. She sometimes knew how to drop her shouting and instead be sweet. If Natsume was a less prideful boy, he would've leaned into that, been sad and pathetic all the time so she could keep giving him this fleeting attention. But he was stubborn and he'd never liked being vulnerable. He couldn't bring himself to do it.
Mikan tried to help people. It was like she wanted to save everyone without realizing it, and it frustrated him. He wanted to think he didn't need to be saved at all, and that led to him thinking she should just be nice to him anyway, even if he wasn't hurt.
But it got harder to tell himself he wasn't broken when life refused to be kind to him.
There was a field trip in the fifth grade that Natsume couldn't go on because he hadn't gotten his permission slip signed. His mother was in the hospital all the time and his dad was working all the time and though he wasn't above forging a signature, they'd also needed to bring thirty bucks for the museum entry fee and lunch and Natsume didn't have a cent to his name. He didn't forget, but he wasn't about to ask his parents for anything.
He watched the kids in his grade line up to turn in their slips and then get ready for the bus ride. He leaned back at his desk and tried to tell himself this was for the best. He could draw. He liked to draw. It would be way more fun than a stupid stuffy museum anyway. And so he sat still and ignored any pitiful glances thrown his way. He didn't want or need anybody feeling sorry for him.
The kids who didn't have permission to go to the museum wound up in some tiny classroom with a substitute. Lucky for him, he was the only kid who didn't have a signed slip.
He sat near the back, by a window, ignoring the substitute's pleas he sit closer, with his sketchbook in front of him. He tended to draw his favorite anime characters over and over again, or maybe a passing cat or a nice tree outside or something. He didn't really like calling himself an artist, because that word made him think of stuff like this. Working all the time like his dad did, never having pocket money for trips, filling out fee waivers for charges other kids wouldn't even blink at. He liked to draw sometimes, but he wasn't an artist.
He was considering what to draw, staring straight ahead blankly as the substitute readied Finding Nemo on the shabby TV at the front. A few Disney movies like this, a government subsidized lunch in the cafeteria, and then he could go home in peace. The day was looking more and more decent by the second.
And then he heard a huff and looked up to see Mikan sitting a row in front of him.
"What are you doing here, Polka Dots?"
She sniffed but refused to look at him. "If you must know, I forgot to get my slip signed."
He snorted. "That's embarrassing."
"What's your excuse?" she asked, already peeved and they'd only been talking for thirty seconds.
"Same," he lied.
"Well, then that's embarrassing too." But she finally looked at him, and the expression on her face wasn't one of annoyance or anger, but concern, like she wasn't sure he was telling the truth. She turned back to the front with another sniff. "At least there's movies."
"Yeah, baby stuff."
"You don't like Finding Nemo?" She turned to him again, this time donning a look of surprise.
He answered by rolling his eyes.
"You're crazy."
That day, Natsume doodled and Mikan provided shot by shot commentary on the movies as if the only thing the world was missing was the genius and complex thoughts in her empty little head. If she ever said anything funny (and she did, often, mostly without meaning to be funny), then he did a good job biting his lip and bending his head over more as if he was focusing hard on his drawing of a fish.
Lunch was announced and Natsume stood up languidly, looking forward to whatever the cafeteria had to offer today. He waited inexplicably for Mikan, who was rummaging through her bag for her lunch money. She got frustrated and then the bag fell over, with many papers and supplies falling out with it. Natsume bent over to pick up two things-because that's all that he would allow himself to pick up-only to pick up a very familiar piece of paper.
Her permission slip.
Signed.
Mikan snatched the paper out of his hand and shoved it back in her bag. All of her stuff falling out helped her find her money, so in a matter of seconds she was standing and huffing and pretending like her face wasn't pink.
Natsume had a lot of questions, but he didn't know how to ask any of them. She'd been terribly loud about the field trip for weeks. It's all he heard for an hour a day at recess-"It's gonna be so fun! Aren't you excited, Hotaruuuuuu? Inchouuuu, what kind of exhibits do you think they'll have? I'm so excited! What do you think your favorite part will be? I hope there's animals!"-and now she was lying about getting the slip signed?
Maybe she got it signed but forgot about the money? Maybe she'd lost the slip until now? Maybe she saw he was going to be alone today and decided to lie about not having a slip so she could keep him company?
Ridiculous.
He didn't mention her slip. He got his lunch and she got hers and they sat at opposite ends of the same table in the cafeteria, not saying a single word to each other.
The day ended when the bus came back to school and all their classmates streamed out, shouting about what a fun time they'd had and how big the museum had been. Natsume met up with Ruka, who was muttering out desperate and embarrassed apologies for going without him.
He couldn't help but bring his attention to Mikan again, who was actually crying hearing Shouda recount every exhibit at the museum and all the fun she'd missed by staying at school. Her friends teased her for "forgetting" her slip, and Natsume kept his questions to himself again.
For all of her insistence that everyone stay awake so they could sing and talk the whole trip, Mikan conked out faster than anyone else. All of ten minutes back on the bus after breakfast and her head was leaning against Natsume's shoulder and he didn't have anything to lose so he let a triumphant smile wiggle its way onto his mouth. This was even better than sleeping on her shoulder. There was no way he would fall asleep too, because he had to relish every second of this-
But he did fall asleep, and pretty quickly.
When he woke up, his head was against hers and some of her flyaway hairs had gotten stuck in his mouth, which was gross. His neck hurt and he was pretty sure she was drooling on him. He shrugged his shoulder to bully her into waking up. She made an unattractive grunt at being forced awake and then scowled at him when she saw he was responsible.
"What's the big deal?"
"I thought you wanted to sing and talk and dance or something."
"Not dance. We're on a bus."
"Everyone else is awake so maybe you wanna get a stupid singalong started?"
Mikan rolled her eyes but stretched a bit and then turned in her seat to scream at the other kids, "WHO WANTS TO SING?"
Their teammates groaned and grumbled but it was hard to say no to her, so in about two minutes, Koko was playing their playlist and everyone was singing along to "All Star" with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Natsume was definitely on the lower end of the spectrum, but he knew all the words, so he sang anyway.
For about forty-five minutes the bus was thundering with nine tone-deaf kids and their equally tone-deaf coach singing as loud as they could to terrible music and then when the singing stopped, a conversation started flowing and Natsume found himself looking over at Mikan only to see her half out of her seat, looking behind her, or bent over the seat to talk to Hotaru right behind them.
Natsume counted all of this as a victory, that she sat with him twice on purpose without him even asking even though she could've sat next to her best friend and saved poor Ruka from having to endure a cold debate about capitalism.
She chose him.
It felt nice.
He fell asleep again and was only woken up later when they arrived at their hotel.
His mom died when he was in the sixth grade. It wasn't really a surprise. He saw it coming, and had seen it coming for almost a year at that point. Aoi was somehow shocked by it, and their dad was a blubbering mess about it, but Natsume knew better.
She'd been in and out of hospitals for a long time, even though she pretended to be just fine whenever her children came around. She was always all smiles, joking about the bad food and rude doctors. Aoi seemed to fall for the facade but Natsume was too smart.
He was taken out of school for a bit. There was a big funeral to start with, and his dad could only do so much to take care of it. Natsume was the one calling up relatives to inform them of his mother's passing and letting them know about the upcoming service. He acted as proxy about the cremation and cleaned up their little house for after the service. It wasn't that he wanted to do it; it's just that it wouldn't have gotten done if he hadn't.
There was no time for school for a bit.
Natsume forgot about Mikan again.
The funeral passed and Natsume didn't remember a single thing about it. That didn't matter. The funeral wasn't about him.
He stayed out of school because once his father snapped out of his depressed funk for long enough to breathe, he insisted that Natsume grieve too, assuming they were all equally distraught. "A child can't be expected to go learn about fractions and feudalist battles when his mother just died!"
Natsume didn't know about that.
By the time he came back, he was very far behind and the school year was approaching a close. It would have been a fool's errand to try and catch up in so little time. Thus his academic standing dropped by a lot and Natsume let himself not care.
He used to care at least a little. He didn't want to be an artist. Math seemed much safer. He was effortlessly good at school, once. Mikan had said so too. But once you trip and fall, it is very hard to keep racing on. Everyone is running up ahead and there's so much space between you and them, that you think maybe it's for the best to just give up and watch the rest of the race from the ground.
That lasted for a bit.
But Natsume got tired of the ground, and for the fun of it decided to get up (do one homework assignment) which turned into a stroll (multiple homework assignments) which turned into a light jog (studying for a test) until he was running again.
By the eighth grade, it was like nothing had ever happened, and for the most part Natsume was content to pretend like it didn't. Bringing up his mom would trigger nothing but misery at the dinner table. Not that he made a habit of it. Aoi was more likely to dredge up some old forgotten memory and ask about what Mom was like before the kids and before the wedding and before college and before she was a teenager and before before before but now there was no before, just after and she was dead and their dad couldn't take it because he was the only one of them who hadn't ever moved on, not even a little.
Natsume got tired of telling Aoi to shut her trap and keep her memories to herself in order to keep the peace. If the dinner is nice and Dad is smiling and everything is perfect then why ruin it with sad reminders that there was something missing?
Natsume was good at pretending. Life, to him, was about as important as a video game; choices seemed pre-made and he could tell which ones would get him a good end. Good school, good job, decent death. He loved his mother, but he didn't like thinking about her because it gave him an ache in his chest that he couldn't do anything about, so he preferred to not think about her at all. He was willing to pretend. He was good at pretending.
He didn't get why it was hard for other people.
The hotel was nice. It was big and white and overwhelming and the floor was sparkling and the chandeliers were gleaming and everything was light and golden inside. It was a very nice change of pace from the tiny house Natsume was used to. The Alice High School Academic Decathlon A Team dragged their suitcases into the lobby, the wheels and chatter echoing around the huge space and Mikan twirled excitedly. Koko joined in soon after and then their bags were forgotten, the two of them holding hands and spinning in a circle, shrieking with laughter and making fools of themselves.
Natsume just watched.
"I sometimes wish I could be so carefree," Ruka mumbled from beside him. "They don't care what anybody thinks, they just do what's fun."
That was putting it mildly. They were humiliating themselves. But that was just a side effect of being around Mikan; she tended to embarrass herself and anybody unfortunate enough to be around her just by breathing.
Narumi checked them in and they split up in four rooms: one for Naru, one for the girls, one for Natsume, Ruka, and Mochu, and one for the rest of the boys. They dropped off their bags and then the kids got together again in Iinchou, Koko, and Tsubasa's room to discuss their itinerary.
"There's a lot to do here!" Mikan said excitedly, scrolling through local spots on her phone.
"We need to be studying," Hotaru insisted. "There'll be time to goof off after the exams."
"Come on, Imai," Tsubasa said with a grin. "We've been studying everyday for months. Taking one break isn't gonna kill us."
"Taking one break could mean the difference between placing and getting last-"
"The hotel has a pool," Mochu said offhandedly.
"Two pools, actually," Shouda corrected. "And there's a karaoke place right down the street."
Mikan squealed. "No, no, forget everything else!" She dropped her phone. "I wanna do karaoke!"
"Maybe we should vote on it?" Iinchou suggested.
"No," Hotaru bit out. "This is not a democracy. The only thing we voted on was captain and co-captain, and you guys made your choice. Iinchou and I make the decisions now and I say we stay and study."
Iinchou fiddled with his thumbs and it was hard to miss all his teammates giving him encouraging nods and the way Koko kept pinching his arm until he finally caved. "I think we should have some fun! We've worked really hard! It's not everyday you get to go on a trip like this with all your friends, right?"
Hotaru glared at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You are soft, Iinchou."
"Oh, come on, he caved for that stupid rule you made up, you might as well give him a break on this." Shouda wasn't taking no for an answer. She was already pulling out her phone to call the karaoke place and reserve a room for after their dinner. "This should give us time to do some sight-seeing and do some other fun stuff until dinner."
The nine of them headed out, promising Naru to meet up at the hotel lobby again before dinner so they could all walk together to the restaurant. He let them go on their own, at peace since Iinchou would be with them and no doubt taking care of all of them and doing multiple headcounts every ten minutes.
Tsubasa sucked them all into a variety of shitty novelty shops and for too long Natsume would wander around looking at stuff he would never spend money on until they moved on. They visited a very nice large park and the girls (well, Mikan, Shouda, and Tsubasa) insisted on taking as many selfies with the sakura trees as possible, which also kept them from going as fast as Natsume would like.
The walk turned even more exciting (for everyone but Hotaru, really) when they somehow ended up in the midst of a shopping plaza, with snacks and treats all over, souvenirs in every cranny, and all sorts of useless products being sold by cheerful looking shops. Mikan was, of course, in her element, screaming over everything and recounting her money as she considered which treats to buy herself. Hotaru's irritation started to slip a bit too, when she spotted a booth selling animal themed goods, snowglobes and figurines and solar-powered toys. She and Ruka both made a beeline for the store, seemingly ignorant to the fact that the other was even there. Tsubasa and Mikan went to buy as much food as they could and Shouda, Koko, and Mochu got swept up in a sale at a souvenir shop.
Natsume was left alone with Iinchou, aimlessly strolling through the plaza and letting his eyes run over his surroundings without really taking anything in.
"You don't like busy places like this, huh?" Iinchou asked quietly. Natsume wasn't even sure he'd really spoken at all at first.
"Oh. Uh, no, I guess not."
"Me either." He sighed. "But it's nice to see everyone else having fun."
Natsume shrugged. "I just wanna eat dinner already."
"Are you looking forward to karaoke later?" Iinchou smiled goodnaturedly and Natsume realized they really hadn't talked that much, just the two of them. It suddenly felt important to be nice.
"Everyone else is," he answered, and that was really the nicest thing he could think of to say.
"I'm a terrible singer," Iinchou said shyly, his cheeks reddening prematurely. "I'm kinda nervous."
"We're all bad singers. You were on the bus, too. Besides, I don't think there's any point in being nervous with these people anymore. Everyone likes you."
"You think so?"
"We all chose you as our captain for a reason. You're the best person for the job and you're the only person who actually cares about everyone else. Imai might be the most serious and Polka Dots might be the loudest, but you're the only one any of us wants leading us." That was probably the most words Natsume had said all day, but he meant it, and it was worth the humiliation of talking so much once he saw the bashful smile on Iinchou's face.
"Everyone likes you too."
"Not everyone."
"Everyone," Iinchou insisted. "Every one of us. I think you really shine on this team. You might not have been a natural from the beginning, but once you started taking things seriously, you were a good leader for the Varsities and you do really well. I hope you plan on sticking around for next year."
Natsume really didn't know how to reply, so he did what he always did when he was paid a compliment: he ignored it.
Natsume remembered Mikan pretty much immediately upon returning to middle school. She was the kind of person who refused to be ignored. If she was within two miles of a person, they were sure to know it. And Natsume could feel her presence as soon as he stepped foot on campus again. She was there, seeping into the walls and halls of this place, dirtying the floor with her antics, her grating voice echoing off every surface with a vengeance.
He missed that feeling. It was a welcome respite from the ceaseless torment of home and funerals and Mom and death and grief. His first day back, he ran into her, quite literally. They were both turning a corner and their heads rammed into each others' and Natsume could only muster a soft, "Uh," before she was screaming his ear off about being more careful and considerate of other people's personal space. She walked off in a huff, hugging her books closely to her chest and Natsume smiled for the first time in months.
Sadly, Mikan wasn't a regular part of his life in middle school. She had different classes and their social circles didn't overlap perfectly. As a result, sometimes he'd go days without thinking about her, only to be smacked with a plague on his mind for another week. She was nowhere and then everywhere and then back to nowhere.
By the time eighth grade was nearing its close, Natsume was being driven mad about it. If their interactions had to be so fleeting, couldn't she be a bit nicer to him? But if he wanted her to be nice to him, it was only fair that he extend the olive branch first, but he had no idea how to do that.
Tsubasa-or Baldy, or later, Asshat-was a family friend that Natsume had known forever. They were a few years apart, but they'd always celebrated holidays together and their sisters were pretty inseparable, always playing Sims together in one of their bedrooms, giggling and joking as they removed the ladder from their Sims' pool. The weekend before the Spring Formal dance celebrating the end of the school year and middle school as they all knew it, Natsume found himself at the Andou house.
While their parents talked in the kitchen about politics or whatnot, and Aoi and Hikari took turns coming up with new dives into the pool in the backyard, Natsume sat with Tsubasa in the living room, watching TV.
After about forty five minutes of silence, Natsume finally decided to take the first step into bravery by asking, "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
He kinda expected Baldy to snort and tease, "Have I?" but instead his face flushed and he whipped his head away to stare hard at the TV screen. "Why are you asking me that? Are you bullying me again?"
"No, not this time." Natsume decided there was only one way this conversation could go, and it seemed much simpler to pull it off if Baldy was freaking out and uncomfortable the whole time. "Have you ever even flirted with a girl?"
Tsubasa choked on air and then pretended to cough in order to cover it up. "Uh… sure. Sometimes."
Natsume sighed in disappointment. "I was really hoping you had actual experience," he said dismissively. "There's this chick in my grade that I kinda like and I wanted to hear advice from someone who actually knows what they're talking about. Just my luck." He said the last three words with as much disdain as he could muster.
Tsubasa guffawed and then shook his head. "I have experience! I'm older than you, brat! I know all about girls. Lay it on me."
Victory, like always. Natsume turned to face Tsubasa head on. "She's annoying and loud and doesn't like me. I didn't really give her a reason to. How do I make her like me?"
"You can't make anyone do anything," Tsubasa reminded him patronizingly and Natsume rolled his eyes.
"Get a grip."
"It's true!"
"I know that already. I want actual advice."
"Okay. Well, if she doesn't like you, you're starting off on a bad foot. Maybe you need to start anew. Be nice. Give her a reason to like you."
"Like how?"
"Like, instead of taking Aoi to the Spring Formal, you could ask this girl you like?"
Natsume considered that for a moment. Then he shook his head. "No way."
"Are you even willing to try? This isn't gonna be effortless, you know."
"I'm willing to try. You're just giving crappy advice."
"Natsume."
"I can't ask her because she'll think it's a joke and say no."
"Wow. You're scared of her!"
"She's frightening. You would get it if you ever met her." Probably not, actually. She was only ever mean to Natsume. She'd probably be perfectly pleasant with Baldy.
"Okay. Then maybe you should ask her to dance? Just one dance. If you can do that, then there's a chance you could build up to something bigger in the future. Just one dance."
That seemed simple enough.
Ask her for one dance.
He repeated that in his head like a mantra the whole time he got ready for the Spring Formal. Just one dance. He imagined being very cool about it, maybe even wearing shades. He'd ask her like it was no big deal-because it wasn't-and she would blush and say yes-
But that was unrealistic. She definitely wouldn't immediately buy it. Maybe she'd start off her usual insufferable self and then when he took his shades off in one fluid movement he'd come across as much more vulnerable and earnest and she'd be able to see in his eyes that he meant it and then she would blush and say yes-
But the most realistic outcome was that even after she looked in his eyes she'd say no.
He knew this going into it, but he had every intention of asking anyway. He left the shades at home, because that was a stupid part of the fantasy, and he took them off anyway so it's not like they'd change anything.
He went to the dance without Aoi, and she did put up a fuss about it, but their father made it up to her by making the night a Daddy-Daughter Date Night (really just a night of mac-n-cheese and ice cream and board games and whatever stupid romcom Aoi was obsessed with these days).
Ruka was by his side at first, but they weren't really up and about. Dancing seemed so bizarrely cringey to them, like they'd get laughed out of the place if they bothered, even though most girls seemed to not have this concern. Instead, Natsume and Ruka haunted the buffet table for a moment, half-planning to eat the night away. Natsume was biding his time before approaching Mikan (procrastinating), Ruka was too shy, and both of them ignored the festivities for as long as they could. That was the plan, at least, until Mikan's awful friend floated over to the table, pushing them out of the way violently so she could assess the food situation.
Natsume ran away when Hotaru started harassing Ruka over the plate he was inadvertently blocking with his body, abandoning his friend to her cruel gaze. After that, he kept to a little corner, sitting far from everyone else, but watching intently at the dancing. More often than not, his eyes would find Mikan in the crowd, and she was somehow dancing with a different person each time he saw her. It seemed unlikely now that she would say no to a dance with anybody, and his hopes went up that "anybody" included him as well.
She was wearing red, so it only made sense he'd keep looking at her-looking for her-because she looked really good in that color, in his color. Nobody could see him, so he let himself smile about it, like somehow fate had made it so that she would suit his favorite color perfectly. Whether she knew it or not, whether anything happened or not, in some way they were meant to be. That was true, even if he was the only one in the world who knew it.
He procrastinated some more, making excuses for why he didn't come up to her after every song (someone else was talking to her, she looked busy, she was smiling too wide, she wasn't smiling enough, all because she had to be in the perfect mood or else she might say no…), but when she was suddenly alone, with nobody at her side, her smile just right, he couldn't think of any reason not to go up to her anymore.
If he waited to think about it, he'd never do it, so without thinking he stomped over to her, his determination turning into pure energy so it didn't slip away. He looked her right in the eyes.
"Uhh…" he started, and he realized he didn't really know what exactly to say.
At the same time, she said, "Ugh!"
Discouraging. He could feel his heart shriveling. She was gonna be like that, was she? Asking her to dance felt like the worst option then. He didn't want to embarrass himself. Better to be evasive, and maybe he could work his way there, inadvertently asking her or somehow making it so it was her idea…
Within a few seconds that proved itself impossible.
"I'd rather dance terribly alone than dance to your impossible standards with you for even a second!"
Well, he did expect something like this. It didn't mean it didn't sting a bit. But he could hear Baldy's voice in his head, telling him to be nice. Give her a reason to like you. "Your dress," he said, because even though there was a lot to compliment that stood out the most, the way the red complimented her hair and her eyes and made her look so much more mature and elegant than she usually did. "That's my favorite color."
He expected her to dislike him approaching her. He expected annoyance tonight and every other night. At this point, he expected vitriol and rolling eyes and groans at his presence. He expected "ugh!"s and dismissive comments and rude insults. Even for a compliment, he expected a less than ideal reaction.
What he did not expect were tears.
"I didn't wear it please you , you self-centered pig!"
The comment was expected, but the way her eyes were welling up was not. He couldn't remember ever making her cry before. The closest he could think of was the time he'd made fun of her valentine way back in kindergarten, but that didn't make sense. Back then he'd said genuinely mean things. This time he was being nice, just like Baldy said. Her annoyance he could deal with, but her crying he could not. "Why are you crying?"
"I hate you. I can't ever wear this dress again now."
"Why not?"
"I hate the color red."
She was lying. She was lying. She'd been smiling before. She liked the color red before he walked up to her. She was lying through her stupid teeth. "You're the one wearing it," he pointed out, because she was annoying him and he wanted to catch her in her stupid, annoying lie.
"That's just because… Because my mom made me wear it. I hate red. I'll never wear red again."
Her eyes were narrowed. The red was all over her face now, in the worst way. He didn't feel like they were meant to be together anymore. Instead, it felt like fate had chosen to mess with him yet again. Fate liked to make jokes out of him, to push him into these situations and then giggle when he was eaten alive. She was so nice to everyone else, just cruel to him. She probably didn't even realize it. But he realized it, now more than ever before. They didn't have a cute little banter, like he'd thought. She didn't look forward to seeing him and arguing with him like he did.
She didn't hate the color red. She hated him.
Baldy was a fucking idiot. Be nice? Give her a reason to like him? Fat chance! She was impossible! What was even the point in trying? She was the worst, and there was no olive branch good enough for her.
He couldn't really remember much of what he said after that, just that he was mad and angry and hurt and he wanted her to feel hurt too. Tsubasa was right; he couldn't make Polka Dots like him. What he could do, however, even if it was the only thing he could do, was make her angry or furious or hateful.
He let as many insults escape his mouth as he could think of, and he didn't pause either, so she couldn't get a word in edgewise. When he was done thinking and the anger had fully licked off his tongue, he snapped his mouth shut and turned to walk away before she could reply.
It was pretty necessary, because she didn't actually look angry. He'd never seen someone look so sad by the end of his little tirade. Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were furrowed with some horrible emotion he couldn't think of a word for, her lower lip trembling and her face redder than ever. Her breath hitched.
He walked away, because he was done talking and he didn't want to hear her insult him back, because he didn't want to get hurt the way he'd hurt her. He didn't want to stick around to see the extent of what he'd done.
He'd gone and danced with Shouda right after, and he pretended to enjoy it too, because for once Mikan felt worse than he did. He imagined her sobbing and crying and it felt good in some messed up way, like she was finally getting a taste of her own medicine. Sure he'd never been nice to her before, but that didn't give her the right to cry about it!
He hated her too. He hated her more than she hated him. He liked everybody more than her, and he didn't really like anybody. She was the worst. She was stupid and loud and annoying and unbearable and in that moment he couldn't think of a single good thing about her. He hoped she never forgave him because he would never forgive her.
He forgave her twenty minutes later.
But it took him two weeks to let himself think about the fact that she hated him for a pretty good reason. He knew how to be nice to her; he just never chose to be.
Just like planned, they met with Naru at the lobby and then walked together to the restaurant. It was a nice restaurant too, since the school agreed to pay for one meal for all of them and Naru liked to milk that. Nobody complained. The food was great and the place looked good, but Natsume got a bit peeved when Mikan sat all the way at the other end of the table. He was forced to endure Koko's loud slurping and the obnoxious way he licked his lips.
They walked back towards the hotel and she barely gave him a passing glance, apparently absorbed in her conversations with Shouda and Mochu, her laughter a loud and ear-splitting, grating sound.
This carried on for the rest of the night too. After saying good-night to Naru, the team snuck out past the agreed upon curfew and headed for the karaoke place. They ordered sodas to their little room and in an act of desperate immaturity all subconsciously decided to act like they were drinking alcohol. As the hours passed they became stupider. Tsubasa laughed too much, Ruka kept choosing epic ballads to break his voice singing, and even Natsume stood up to sing a song or two.
He'd picked a more difficult Linkin Park song and everyone had clapped when he'd gotten through all of it without a single stammer. Mikan clapped too. He liked when she did that.
But she didn't sit by him. She was by her creepy best friend and with Shouda and not with him, and he pretended like he didn't even notice.
Things had changed between them.
One day, she'd yelled at him that she hated him and the next she'd yelled that she did not. It was the best feeling in the world to know that they were friends now, and that was good enough. More than good enough, it was wonderful. He'd been selfish and kissed her, but being friends was nice. He liked that. They could be friends. He wouldn't ruin it by getting unreasonably annoyed by her sitting next to someone else. He could keep that to himself.
After all, anything was preferable to the way things were before.
Polka Dots was tone-deaf. Her singing voice was (much like her alleged "cooking") pretty atrocious. Hotaru booed her, Shouda covered her ears, and even polite Ruka could only muster a pitiful smile. Natsume let himself laugh at her, but that only made her sing louder, which consequently made her sound even worse.
She flicked his forehead when she was done and on her way back to her seat.
The room was cramped with all nine of them, falling on top of each other and yelling to be heard and screeching with adolescent laughter. It was hot and sweaty and loud and even Natsume was having fun.
It was a good night.
They really felt like a team. All of them.
Ruka had been trying to get Natsume to join Acadec since high school started.
"Easy A," he kept saying, but his voice got more and more pleading each time he asked, like his life would be complete if only Natsume would agree.
But Natsume did not want to agree. Acadec was a class about studying. He didn't study for his normal classes, so why would he willingly sign up to do even more studying?
"You don't get it!" Ruka would protest each time. "It's different. You feel like a team. You feel like a family. It's fun."
Likely.
"No."
For two years Ruka went on this doomed mission. A month each time, begging and pleading and bargaining until it was too late and then he'd slouch and get all moody until he'd get it in his head that he could try and brag about all the stuff he got to do in the class and all the fun they were having, but Natsume could not be moved.
It just didn't sound like something he was interested in.
High school in general was pretty uninteresting. He was passing his classes and that's the most he asked of himself, with his highest scores being in math and in the various art classes he'd taken. He'd try out all sorts of things to satisfy his hobby, taking Ceramics and Art and Woodshop and then painting at home and sketching… well, everywhere. He'd dabble idly in googling what the most lucrative STEM jobs were these days, or at least which ones took the least amount of effort.
He hung out with friends and played video games and watched anime and sometimes found himself falling against his bed only for his eyes to find an old scrap of paper cut in the shape of a heart, with a five year old girl sarcastically calling him a special boy.
It was in those instances that he'd ask himself if he hated her now, or if maybe she just didn't mean anything beyond a vague crush he'd had as a kid that could never have amounted to much anyway because of her hatred of him. Or did he still like her, but he didn't want to like her, since he knew she hated him? He never answered these questions. They weren't worth answering. It was much easier to turn on another show or listen to some music or sketch something.
The summer between junior and senior year was hotter than usual. Climate change and all that, as Ruka explained to him. Natsume and his friends would find themselves at Baldy's house pretty often, making good use out of that refreshing pool. Ruka and Mochu liked to actually swim, but Shouda liked to "work on her tan" and Natsume was just plain lazy, so he'd half-submerge himself in the water while clinging to the edge. And Baldy, the oldest of them, would role-play being six years old, practicing diving and making a mess of his whole backyard while their respective sisters played Sims inside all day.
"Hey, did you get the book yet?" Mochu asked an hour into their meeting, addressing Shouda, who was pretending to be glamorous with heavy shades over her eyes.
"Yes," she said plainly. "I tried reading the first chapter but I got bored and realized it was way too early in the summer to start studying. Not when I have hotter books to read."
"I've just finished it last night," Ruka announced excitedly. "I made a powerpoint about the themes-"
"Jesus," Baldy breathed out in surprise. "You are hard-core."
"The math is Calc this year," Ruka continued pointedly, glancing at Natsume, which sent him the message that this was about that silly academic class again. "We could really use a math whiz for the summer sessions."
Natsume pretended not to hear him, instead resting his head on his forearms and yawning in the halfway pleasant sunshine.
"Natsume-kun would be a great help," Shouda chimed in, not at all subtle.
"I think Natsume would rock most of the subjects," Mochu agreed.
Thankfully, Baldy did not put in his two cents, instead making a big deal about his next dive, which looked a lot like the last twenty dives. Natsume closed his eyes, surrendering to the fact that he was going to be harassed yet again, this time by multiple people instead of just Ruka, because Ruka was successful in recruiting almost everyone he knew with the sole exception being Natsume.
"Natsume, come on, you know pretty much everyone in class."
"Yeah, I mean it's pretty much just an excuse to goof off with friends in school."
"And it'd be easy for you!"
"You'd be effortlessly good at it, for sure."
"We're there, and Koko is also there-"
"That's not an incentive."
"I was able to convince a couple of cool kids to join this year, actually, so it'll be even more fun. Do you guys know that Kaoru Nendo kid?"
"Oh, and Iinchou is a great guy. You know him! He's a great captain."
"And Naru lets you get away with anything. Easy A, for sure."
"Imai is kinda scary."
"I didn't mention her for a reason."
"But she somehow managed to invite Sakura this year. She didn't do so well though. I don't take her for the academic type at all. I'm really surprised she joined. I wonder if she'll be back."
Natsume didn't do anything to signal to anybody that this new topic would be interesting to him, aside from slowly opening his eyes to the blinding sun. Baldy did another dive.
"That's right," Ruka's voice said, lighting up. "She tried really hard. Somehow, Imai convinced her-"
Mikan was involved in a bunch of sports, as far as Natsume knew. She was school spirit incarnate, never missed a single pajama day and shouting loudly in the halls before any game. He knew she was in a variety of clubs, not limited to ASB and any dance-planning committee and Fashion Club as well as, undoubtedly, Club Penguin. She seemed to be everywhere and sucked into everything, and not a single school event was complete without her obnoxious handiwork all over it.
But, no. She didn't seem the academic type.
Mikan joining this class didn't make any sort of sense short of wanting to be around all her friends, but it would probably cut into her otherwise busy schedule, wouldn't it? Natsume exhaled steadily, reminded of the same incongruity of her freaking out over his bleeding finger all those years ago, or the slip she'd hidden when she'd seen he was alone during the field trip.
He was curious. That's all.
He didn't admit that right away, but when Ruka called him the next day to ask again, Natsume sighed in a show of exhaustion and forfeit when he finally said, "Fine, I'll check it out."
Ruka was the only person in the world who could get away with saying, "Whoo!" over the phone.
Natsume saw Mikan again the very next week. He wasn't planning on actually staying in the class. He figured it was kind of like killing two birds with one stone: satisfying his curiosity about the stupidest girl he'd ever met while also getting Ruka off his back for a bit.
Her eyes were on him the whole time, and it felt familiar but new all at once. Mikan used to pretend he didn't exist whenever possible, but now it was like he was the only thing that existed, in all the worst ways.
Then the meet ended and she walked right up to him, unafraid as ever, just like he thought she would, instantly attacking him, her face easily burning up or taking a new shape to accommodate whatever negative emotion he brought out in her next.
She tried to make a case for him quitting. All his most horrible traits were laid out as to why he didn't belong there: mean, rude, not a team player, lazy, uninterested. She was right on all counts, and it brought a surge of bizarre thrill through him to realize she understood him so well.
The funniest thing was that he was actually going to quit. He didn't really intend on joining the class in the fall. He was just going to mess with her for a bit, watch her in this new environment, satisfy Ruka's pleads, and then fuck off to join the painting class or Ceramics just like she suggested. But she just had to come up to him, reminding him in one fell swoop what it felt like to feel so angry and happy all at once just because of one person. Spending a whole year with her was suddenly imperative, crucial, important. And she must have felt the same way, or she wouldn't have come up to him.
He became even more convinced that she must have secretly enjoyed his presence when Asshat threw his birthday party and Mikan threw her tantrum over the chicken, just to join him in the water.
His questions, which had been unanswered and ignored for a long time, suddenly had answers as clear as the water she was splashing at him:
He did not hate her. Not even close.
The team returned to the hotel. Most of the group went back to their respective rooms, but Mikan had grabbed Natsume's wrist and pulled him aside before he could join his roommates.
Finally, he thought to himself, but out loud he said, "What do you want now?"
"I need to practice my speech!" she hissed.
It was one in the morning. They had tests to take tomorrow. If they were caught out of bed later than this, they'd be in a lot of trouble. If they weren't well-rested and on top of their game for tomorrow, Imai would probably skewer them both like pigs for the slaughter.
He went with her.
At first, they just went on a different floor, but that lost appeal when they realized that they weren't the only team staying at the hotel (the competition was taking place in the hotel, after all), so they escaped outside, where they could talk louder than whispers.
She recited her speech over and over as they walked in circles. He never said anything, but she kept breaking anyway, her voice keeling into laughter for no reason whenever she looked at him for too long. Then she'd slap his arm and tell him to stop, but he wasn't even doing anything.
After six recitations, they were on the outer patio, where the pool was sparkling in the moonlight. Closed, but still pretty to look at.
Mikan sighed and then pouted, as she was prone to doing whenever the whim came to her. "I like your speech better than mine."
Natsume's speech, on the plight of sad little black cats, was one he kinda liked too. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked the Speech subject the best out of all the Acadec subjects. It was nice to have an excuse to write about anything he wanted, with very few restrictions. The way Ruka had sold it to him was to ask himself if there was anything he wished people talked about more, and the whole "black cats are bad luck" thing popped up in his head immediately.
But he was partial to her speech. She was usually so smiley and sweet (to everyone but him… except for recently), so it was nice to see her discuss bloodshed and nemeses, to hear her voice drop a pitch in her attempt to sound intimidating, to see her eyes sparkle with something darker than the glimmer that usually lived there.
"I like your speech better than mine," he admitted quietly.
She scoffed.
"I mean it." He let his words settle. "It's a risky topic, but you do a really good job."
"Thank you." He refused to look at her. He looked at the pool instead. "Are you teasing me, though?"
"No, if I were teasing you, I'd tell you that it's my favorite speech because it's about me, and I like the reminder that you're obsessed with me."
"Y… You-"
"Well, it's about me. You made it up on the spot looking at me. I'm your muse."
Natsume got a sense of deja vu as he was unceremoniously pushed into the pool that was supposed to be closed for the night. It was cold tonight, cold enough to make him gasp when he came up for air. "You are a toddler," he spat, shaking his head to clear his ears.
"You were teasing me!"
"You basically asked me to."
"I wouldn't ask you to."
"Alright," he conceded, swimming a bit to the edge of the pool. "This is closed. If they catch us here, we'll be in trouble. Pull me up."
He held his hand up for her to take but she shook her head. "I'm not gonna fall for that. Climb out on your own. If they catch you, that's your problem."
"I know you know how to be sweet." But she crossed her arms stubbornly and harrumphed. "I'm really cold." No answer. "I'm not gonna pull you in. I promise."
She finally looked down at him and he sniffed to make a point about how cold it is. She bit her lip thoughtfully, but instead of grabbing his hand and pulling him out like he was asking her to, she knelt down until she was on the floor in front of him. He waited, confused, for whatever trick she was about to pull on him.
Instead, she yanked him by the collar and kissed him on the mouth.
He wasted no time before kissing her back, and the hand that had been waiting to be pulled up instead went to cup her face instead. His heart trilled with excitement, his head racing with no thoughts at all, his breath coming out all uneven and shaky. Just for her to pull away.
"Whoops," she said. "The pool is closed. We're not allowed to be here!" Then she stood up fluidly and ran away, darting into the hotel and leaving him alone, wet and cold in the pool.
Well, that was one way to teach someone a lesson.
He returned to his room a few minutes later, having dripped through the lobby and the elevator and a very long hallway until he was inside his room, ignoring Mochu's half-conscious croak of, "Who's there?" in favor of isolating himself in the bathroom to take a shower and warm himself up.
As soon as he was by himself, letting the steam settle all over the room, he smiled wide.
The tiny shampoos and soaps seemed charming when they usually just came off as annoyingly difficult to squeeze. The towels were comfy enough. The water pressure was good.
She was so stupid.
And incapable of coming up with anything on her own. He'd done it first. She'd basically just copied him. Not that he minded, really.
But she could've let it last a little bit longer before running away.
It wasn't something you could put a timestamp on, but at some point Hyuuga Natsume had fallen in love with Sakura Mikan and it was nice to think maybe, at some point along the same line, she had fallen in love with him too.
"Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant." -Jane Austen, Persuasion.
A/N: ALSOOOOOO GUYS SOMEONE DREW FANART FOR THIS FIC AND I'M OBSESSED! please please check out froznwater on tumblr to see it (i'll have the specific link on the ao3 version of this ch bc ffn doesnt like links)... i'm just so happy and flattered that someone would draw art over this silly fic im genuinely so obsessed 3