A/N: I don't own Alice Gakuen!

I Will

With a determined and fast pace, Natsume caught up with his mother and Mikan. Lithely, he slipped his hand into Mikan's free hand and firmly held her. Yet Kaoru did not let go and maintained her quick strides, her heels clicking against the marble floor, towards the VIP seats in the front. Aoi purposefully jostled behind them, saying 'Excuse me's here are there, feeling immensely sorry for Mikan who was caught in between two Hyuugas right now. Worse, the two most stubborn Hyuugas.

When they arrived at the front row, Kaoru turned to open her mouth, but Aoi spoke first, "Mum, I see Mr. Noda. You should go sit next to him."

Mr. Noda oversaw everything at the Matsumoto Gallery—his great, great grandfather had opened the Gallery back in the Meiji period. Kaoru briefly looked in his direction, and unluckily for her, she caught his eye.

"Hello darling," she called, waving at Mr. Noda, "I'll be with you in a second." She then turned to Mikan. "Why don't you sit next to me, dear?"

"But mum," Aoi cried, "I want to sit next to you!"

Kaoru did not believe her. "Darling—"

Aoi grabbed her mother's hand. "I need to speak to Mr. Noda anyway. I wanted to ask whether I could host an event here, and he's more likely to say yes if you're sitting in between us. Come on!"

Kaoru looked as if she wanted to protest, but Mikan felt her relent—soon, she was free from her clutches. Aoi now pulled her along, and Mikan smiled and gave a small wave as Kaoru promised that they would speak after her husband's talk.

She still held Natsume's hand. As soon as Kaoru's back was turned, Mikan exhaled quietly, relief flooding her; but then, she grinned, almost in a collaborative manner, in Natsume's direction.

"That was awful. I'm sorry," Natsume said; gently, he moved towards the two seats at the end of the row, far away from his mother, and they both sat down. They still held hands.

Mikan smiled at him. "Don't apologise."

"I wish that never happened."

Mikan admitted, "It was like nothing else I've ever experienced."

"I—"

"Hello ladies and gentleman," the voice rippled in the hall, "thank you for joining me today."

Immediately, Mikan's head snapped away from Natsume, and he watched her jaw drop in awe as she now looked at Ioran Hyuuga in the flesh. Her eyes were wide with respect. Natsume smiled. They were still holding hands. He brought her hand to his lip and softly kissed her knuckles.

"Today, I'll be talking about my paintings—specifically the ones I painted in the 1980s. Most art critics have dubbed this period of my life as the 'Portrait Era'; I confess, I have never liked this title. It seems such a cold, and distant title and I have a problem with the word 'Era', for it signifies a certain time-frame. Eras always end: the Renaissance, the Baroque, the Modernist, the Postmodern—I don't want my paintings to be categorised in this way. I don't mind being a postmodern artist, but to further compartmentalize by slicing up my career into so-called 'eras' is a step too far. It feels too scientific. Not to mention, I still paint portraits...'

Natsume faintly heard his father's mild voice as he watched Mikan. He had heard his father practice this speech many, many times. It was nothing new to him. But to look at this sweet, brave face beside him, flushed with awe… it was like nothing else. It felt completely new to him. With his thumb, he stroked the smooth skin of the back of her hand. These small touches felt more intimate than anything else he had ever experienced in life.

His father talking about how love informed his painting in the 80s became like background music to Natsume, murmuring distantly: it was the soundtrack to this perfect moment.

For the whole two hours, they held hands. It was only when Ioran Hyuuga concluded his speech, Mikan slipped her hand away so she could clap enthusiastically. Following her example, Natsume clapped too.

"That was amazing!" Mikan exclaimed, as she clapped, looking at Natsume with a bright smile.

Natsume was glad that Mikan had enjoyed the talk. He had only heard parts of it, truth be told.

Once the clapping gradually dimmed then ceased, the murmur of conversation rippled throughout the room. From the corner of his eye, Natsume saw his mother rush to his father up on the podium.

He turned to Mikan and was happy to see that she was still looking at him, beaming.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It was the nicest thing a man's done for me."

Natsume raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You must not have known many nice men."

"No one like you." Her eyes softened.

This was different. Everything was different. Everything about her dating life so far told her to do the opposite of what she was currently doing: you give your number, wait three painful days for the text, finally go on a date, show your best side, tell pretty lies to look good, squash all of your flaws and bizarre tendencies, wait until the fifth date to do the deed, try not to become clingy, wait longer, finally date, try your best to make it last and then break up. This had been the consistent pattern. But everything was different with Natsume; she was not following some preconceived, shitty guideline; if anything, she had completely inverted it. For she had not given him her number yet, they had already spent a night together, they were currently on a date, and she was fearlessly showing him all her varying angles. There was no stopping—it was a continuous green go that pushed them freely along, with no signs of an end. More importantly, she was not ignoring how strongly she felt for him. She was attracted to him; she liked him and she was not shy to admit that to him or even to herself. She had only met him last night, but she felt she had got more out of their first evening together than she had done over the years with other men who had come and gone in her life. Somehow, she felt as if she already knew him, and with all her heart, she was convinced he thought the same way about her.

What's the point in playing games when I know how this is going to end? Mikan pondered, sagely and rather calmly.

"Natsume, I—"

"Darling! Here they are, here!" rung Kaoru Hyuuga's distinct voice. Both Mikan and Natsume looked around to see her dragging her husband along, Aoi trailing behind, looking absolutely exhausted. Natsume groaned. Mikan smiled widely, inclining her head slightly out of respect.

"Ioran, dear, this is the lovely lady I was telling you all about." She shoved her husband in front of Mikan.

"Hello, I'm Mikan Sakura," Mikan said, "Your talk was brilliant. I enjoyed it so much, thank you."

Before Ioran could respond, Kaoru looked at her husband ecstatically and added, "Isn't she wonderful? She's Natsume's girlfriend."

"Mum!" Natsume interrupted, embarrassed, his cheeks stained red. He felt as if he were ten and powerless again. How could he ever hope to have a functional relationship if his mother always ploughed through manically like a bull in a china shop?

"Oh, hush baby," Kaoru quite literally swatted away his protests, "you and I both know the two of you are going to get married within the next two years. Would you rather I introduce her as your fiancée?"

Natsume's jaw dropped, mortified, speechless. Mikan went as red as Natsume. Aoi awkwardly laughed as she thought, well done mum—the chances of this girl's sticking around just fell by 17%.

Ioran Hyuuga finally spoke. "Kaoru, you've scared the poor child. Ignore her, Mikan-san; my wife likes to exaggerate. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Just then, Mr. Noda came towards the Hyuugas. Kaoru launched into conversation with him, and Ioran took this time to invite Mikan up to the podium, where a lot of his paintings mentioned in the talk were still displayed. She accepted—but when she turned to Natsume, she saw that he was now busy talking to Mr. Noda alongside his sister and mother.

"They do the boring business talking. Let us talk about other things,"

Mikan nodded and followed Ioran. As she walked away, she felt Natsume's warm gaze on her. Truly, when she turned back to look at him, he was looking at her. He smiled and she returned it.

"Kaoru says that you like my paintings."

"I do." Mikan sheepishly admitted. "They're truly wonderful."

"She also says that my son likes you very much."

The Hyuugas, she came to realise, had no understanding of social boundaries. But Ioran was different—whilst Kaoru was bold, extreme and dynamic, Ioran was grounded, calm and collected.

Bravely, she replied, "I hope so."

"I see." He then turned and looking directly at Mikan, with a twinkle in his eye, "You know, my wife is always right."

That was all he said to her, but the implications were not lost to Mikan.

When you know, you know.

They now stood in front of the Red painting. Mikan suddenly remembered what Kaoru had told her about this painting. She shuffled onto the next one quickly, inspecting the Blue painting instead.

It was a surreal moment; looking at Ioran Hyuuga's paintings with Ioran Hyuuga himself. She felt as if she were in a painting all of a sudden. Everything felt still. Then, a warm hand on her lower back breathed her back into an animated landscape—pure feelings blossomed from Natsume's touch, spreading from her back to all the corners of her body. He was warm; he brought her back. She looked at him. She felt his hand slide across and grip her waist. She leaned back against him and her own arm circled his waist too.

When you know, you know.

And Mikan knew. And as she felt his grip tighten, she knew that Natsume knew too.

In his touch, Mikan felt her future.

Together, they stepped away from the paintings and drifted towards the exit, following the departing crowd.

"I told you we should have stayed in bed."

"Stay in bed and miss this? Never. Not for all the tea in China. I had a delightful morning."

Natsume raised an eyebrow dubiously. "You think being interrogated by my mother is 'delightful'? Don't you mean 'dreadful'?"

"Hush," Mikan lightly swatted him, "don't be mean. Your family is the happiest family I've ever met." She murmured, smiling as she gazed up at Natsume.

"If that's what you want to call them," Natsume snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know why I thought they wouldn't be like this today. I should have known."

"Don't say that. I'm serious," Mikan laughed. "You're all the warmest people that I've ever met. You're very lucky."

"Well, I hope you won't mind if I don't invite them on our date next weekend," Natsume joked, "It'll just be plain old me."

Natsume was expecting her to tease him in response, so he was surprised when she sincerely replied, "Plain old you is perfect."

Emboldened by her courage, he decided to speak candidly too, "You probably won't see them, especially my mother, for half a year max. I don't want her ruining any chances I have with you."

"You think too little of me." Mikan pouted, "A Kansai woman, be it your mother or not, isn't enough to scare me away from you."

"So, you're still in?"

"I'm still in." Mikan promised—it was the sweetest sentence Natsume had ever had the pleasure of hearing.

"Natsume! Mikan!"

Natsume groaned, "Speaking of the Kansai devil…"

Kaoru appeared before them, her husband and daughter closely behind her. Ioran's steps were delayed by others—many were coming up to him to congratulate him on his talk and talent.

"Mikan, we're all going for lunch. I've already called the restaurant—they said they could squeeze you in too. You simply must come and join us!"

Mikan let go of Natsume; she thought it would be rude to be hanging on him so intimately as she spoke to his mother.

"That's very kind of you but I'm afraid I can't join you. I don't want to intrude on your family—"

"Nonsense, nonsense! You're practically family—"

"Mum, what did we just talk about…" Aoi counselled warningly, her eyes pointedly narrowed.

Kaoru rolled her eyes impatiently. "Fine. But Mikan," she beseeched, "you won't be interrupting at all! We'd all love to get to know you."

"Again, that's very sweet, but I'm still going to have to say no. My flatmate is waiting for me." Mikan didn't think it would be fair if Natsume's family to got to know her before Natsume did so himself, alone. "Thank you for thinking of me, though. It's so kind of you all."

Kaoru pursed her lips, clearly disappointed. "That is a pity indeed," but then, she perked up, "darling, do give me your number—"

"No," Natsume quickly and rather firmly interjected—how could he not! Mikan had his business card, but he did not have her number yet. There was no way his mother was getting those digits before him.

"Why not?" Kaoru frowned, not quite understanding how demanding she was being. "I need to invite her to Luca's brunch, the one I'm organising—"

"I'll invite her," Natsume insisted, "so don't worry."

Ioran entered the conversation: "We must go, dear. We'll miss our reservation otherwise." When his wife's head was turned, he attentively smiled at his son. "Come on,"

Kaoru was clearly reluctant to bid a goodbye to her new daughter-in-law. There was still so much to tell her! She still needed to tell Mikan about the best facial moisturisers; the best mattresses; the best way to make strawberry shortcake, Natsume's favourite; the best locations for autumn or spring weddings; where to buy the best maternity clothes; where to get a good deal for pushchairs—oh, and how could she forget! She still needed to tell Mikan how Natsume liked to be tucked into bed after a nightmare!

But in the end, she surrendered. There's still time, she reasoned, looking once again in the direction of Mikan's stomach (double checking, double checking—but alas, no visible signs of a baby bump…).

"Yes, let's go," she nodded. She then turned to Mikan. "We must talk soon! Don't be a stranger."

"I won't," Mikan promised. "I'm sure I'll see you soon, Kaoru-san."

Natsume scoffed quietly to himself.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mikan." Ioran bowed his head—Mikan hastily bowed back. "When you visit us, I'll show my art collection."

"I'd love that. Thank you."

And so, the two Hyuugas walked away. The youngest Hyuuga, Aoi, remained.

"It was lovely to meet you, Mikan," she embraced her.

Mikan smiled and hugged her back. "Again, I'm so sorry about your clothes—"

"Don't be." Then, Aoi murmured in Mikan's ear, "And don't let our mother cloud your judgment on Natsume, okay?"

Mikan laughed. "What could you possibly mean?" She teased.

Aoi joined her laughter. "On that note, I better go tend to her." She raised her hand in goodbye. "It was nice meeting you. I think we'll get along. Let's go for coffee sometime, okay?"

"Alright. Bye, Aoi,"

Before Aoi left, she looked to her older brother, "I'll order your usual. Take your time."

"Thanks, Aoi."

Aoi parted.

They were alone in the Gallery now; everyone else had left.

"So, next weekend?"

Mikan nodded. "Yes, please."

Natsume smiled, pleased. "Can I have your number?"

She pulled out her phone. To his surprise, she looked through her contacts and sent a text to 'Natsume'. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. "I saved it last night," she admitted: while he had been in the shower, Mikan had decided that she wanted to keep him.

He looked at his phone. Her message read, 'Me'.

"You," Natsume murmured, as he saved her number.

"Yes, me," Mikan looped her arms around his neck, and without wasting a second, Natsume leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

Both their eyes closed as their lips pulled and pushed, softly, lovingly, against each other. It was electric. It was tender. It was everything. Their lips slanted against each other, deepening the contact, fuelling the passion and the need to be as close as possible to one another; Natsume held her tightly and—

"Shit—" Mikan pulled away, her hand no longer in Natsume's hair, but touching her lip, "Natsume, you're bleeding!"

"Fuck," Natsume's hands immediately cupped his lips. He felt blood. "Shit, I got some on you too!"

Mikan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then laughed incredulously. She had tasted it before anything else. Just like he had promised her last night, kissing him was an unforgettable experience.

"Don't worry about that. Poor you; let me go find some tissues."

She returned a minute later with a hefty wad of tissues. "Here, let me," She wiped his mouth clean.

"That was weird," Natsume said.

"I think you kissed a bit too hard." Mikan teased.

"I think you kissed me back a bit too hard." Natsume countered.

Mikan did not disagree with him. For the second time, Mikan cleaned Natsume up. She could feel his intense gaze on her; sometimes, she spoilt him by dealing him a very coy smile.

"There. All clean." She rewarded his patience with a kiss to his cheek.

Natsume kept some tissues, just in case it started to bleed again. He stuffed them in his pocket. Then, he held her hand and they both walked out of the Gallery.

"You sure you don't need a lift?"

Mikan nodded. "Very sure… I, um, live only two roads down."

He thought she was exaggerating. "Really, I won't mind. I can give you a lift."

"No; I'm being serious. I live on that street," she pointed.

Natsume was surprised. Last night, he had convinced her to stay by saying it would be more convenient in terms of distance. He had no idea that she lived so close to the Gallery! So close in fact, that if she had left his last night to go back home, she would have actually gotten more hours sleep. She could have just met him at the Matsumoto Gallery. But she didn't. Last night, she had chosen to stay with him.

"… So, then…" He didn't want to say it out loud.

He didn't have to. "Yeah," Mikan thoughtfully confirmed. She had not stayed at his last night because of the logical reasoning he had offered her—no, she had stayed at his because she really wanted to.

Oh, shit, Natsume thought, she's the one.

"I'm going to text you all week," Natsume suddenly blurted out.

Mikan laughed. "I'll be replying to you all week." She then pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "You take it easy this week, alright? I want you to be completely healed next time I see you."

Smiling, he promised, "I will."

… And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Ah, you know I will…
I will …

A/N: The last bit was from the song 'I Will' by The Beatles. It's a very short and sweet song; I think it succinctly captures the essence of this chapter. Give it a listen :)

So, here we have it! I hoped you enjoyed this little story. For now, I've put this under 'Complete' but if I find myself inspired/wanting to revisit this fun lil world, I might write an epilogue for this: maybe their wedding so we get to see crazy Kaoru in action. Or perhaps Kaoru babysitting her grandchild? Haha, who knows – but mind you, I'm not promising anything!

Thanks for reading!