Author's Notes: Thanks to all those who reviewed the previous chapter. Thank you to The Fanfic Collector for the advice regarding the "author this" and "author that". I abandoned the use of it and I'm very much happy for taking up your advice. Once again, THANK YOU!!!
Yes, I'm a lazy author, but no, I'm not planning to abandon any of my fics (except for the Gundam Seed and Digimon ones, which seemed to have grown past my muse).
Caps locks are like swarming ants in a heap of sugar. You have been warned.
Summary: Because their argument was getting nowhere, the mood tends to shift almost dramatically – from glowering faces to lingering gazes. A tale in which screams of frustrations and crumpled papers lead to something worse than insanity.
Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice does not belong to me.
Folie A Deux
-shackled wisteria-
Bipolar Disorder
Chapter Three
Hyuuga Natsume's face glistened with a light cocky smile as he readily balanced the grocery bags hanging from both of his hands. The first stage of his plan has become a success and now all he has to do is to make sure she stays. His decision of having Sakura Mikan as his "dorm-mate" was callously made to satisfy his pride, according to a certain blonde lad who hesitantly went along with his wishes. On the contrary, Natsume's intentions of coming to a rash decision such as this were, unfortunately, not known to public and even to himself.
Natsume remembered on how Ruka compelled to withdraw from being Imai's new "dorm-mate" (in spite of Ruka's futile attempts to satisfy his fantasies at night).
While shifting the weight of the grocery bags to his left hand, Natsume momentarily stood still upon realizing that the door for room 164 was left ajar.
"Idiot," he muttered, before opening the door to allow his entry and closing it behind. "No wonder why Imai decided to give up on her."
His initial reaction was to smirk as he remembered Imai Hotaru's rather crude and short description of how the place was supposed to look like. He didn't believe her at first, of course, because earning Hyuuga Natsume's trust is like searching a needle in the depths of an ocean.
'Don't worry Hyuuga. That place is not girly enough to make you abandon your masculinity.'
Natsume sighed in defeat which is a rare occurrence for a Hyuuga who vowed never to be defeated by anyone.
It is a two-bedroom flat inwardly painted in cream, which evokes a subtle feeling of warmth and safety, as if beckoning a deterred person to find comfort from the tenderness of its color. The ceiling is painted in icy blue, bringing out an image of a fair, summer sky during daylight which slowly turns to winter at night. Hanging in the windows are sea-shells winded into nylon strings like wind chimes, which echo the sound of the waves coming to and fro the shore, before the moon temporarily inherits the sun's glory. The slightly opened windows allow passage for the soothing breeze which is rare for a crowded and polluted city like Tokyo. At the right hand side of the flat stood two doors, both in rich mahogany, each of which lead to both bedrooms, Natsume assumed.
He shifted his gaze towards the kitchen and decided to stay there for a while, until an idiot named Sakura Mikan recognizes his presence.
Natsume thought that the flat must have been a home occupied by a family who stood firmly together amidst of all humiliations, a family who lived not according to society's expectations, but according to their emotions.
Natsume thought that the flat must have been for lease to provide comfort for people like him and by any chance for people like her. He wasn't aware of the fact that Sakura Mikan grew up without her parents until Imai Hotaru surprisingly shared the information to him yesterday.
Before Natsume can continue to dwell on his thoughts, a sweet scent mixed with a discordant hum, engulfed his senses and heightened every possibility of him being deaf. He opened the drawers and closed them to ease the tension he was not supposed to feel. Natsume repeated this for a while until he was forced to flinch at the sound of an intrusive and annoying voice, which proclaimed the extremity of his plan.
'Yeah right.'
"Hotaru? You never told me you're here already!"
Natsume felt like screaming when a pair of arms hugged him from behind.
"Polka-dots," Natsume whispered threateningly.
Natsume wondered how Sakura Mikan became blind.
"Polka-dots."
Still no answer.
"Oi, can you take your hands off of me?"
Ruby eyes widened at the sound of the trespasser's voice.
"Hotaru since when did you develop such a manly voice?"
He placed both of his hands to try to break free from Mikan's death grip, albeit knowing that the girl stupidly hugging him was only dressed with a pink towel.
"Polkadots, in case you haven't noticed, your best friend is nowhere to be seen. Are you now lusting over me?"
Silence.
"I'd just like to tell you that I just bought you from your best friend."
Silence prevailed in the room. The sea-shells hanging on the windows faintly chimed and swayed, casting a fence-like shadow on the cream-coloured walls. The sofa created a sudden, mocking impression as if its abstract-patterned upholstery was brought into life in accord with a tune, played allegro. A moment lapsed. The wind chimes stopped swaying. Everything stood still.
Then there was silence. Again.
When Sakura Mikan's arms loosened, Natsume turned around for a moment to face her with a sly smile, while silently screaming the words "Welcome to hell" and then turning around with his back facing her.
"HYUUGA NATSUME!!!!!!"
"Rocks the-" Before Natsume can demonstrate the outrage of his ego, pain shot from his back as a result of Mikan's head rammed mercilessly against his back bone. Natsume felt an ounce of gratitude for making sure that he drinks a glass of milk, which provides him with 100 calcium as recommended daily by dieticians, before bedtime, since childhood until now.
Unfortunately, as far as Natsume's brain can tell, no mineral or element in the periodic table is capable of preventing the emotions stimulated by the male hormones from overwhelming him.
As he turned around to see the girl lovingly cursing his name, Natsume felt like plucking his eyes out upon seeing a naked Mikan in front of him.
Damn hormones. For the first time in his life, Natsume thought this was the best time to admit defeat.
'Ruka, I feel like taking my words back. For now.'
----
"ACHOO!!!" Nogi Ruka sneezed while carrying a fully loaded box with his nearly numb arms. Turning around to see the amethyst-eyed girl sneering at his worn-out state, he complained, "Imai, what's the purpose of taking these boxes with you when it seems that different species of mushrooms have already accumulated inside?"
"Nogi, did your parents teach you the basic etiquettes that should be exemplified by a literate teenager? Obey first before you ask!" Hotaru jeered at Ruka's dazed state before engrossing herself in a book firmly clasped into her hands. On the other hand, Ruka's jaws dropped upon seeing the title of the book: How To Tame an Idiot in a Period of 365 days.
"IMAI!!! What on earth is that handbook for?!!"
Hotaru momentarily glanced at the person accusingly glaring at her, "Why Nogi? I never remembered myself mentioning that this book was bought for you."
He gulped, and then blushed. "Yeah."
"You are really interesting Nogi. You are capable of understanding my statements without further ado, even faster than Mikan. Surprisingly." She stared at him and gave him a smirk in an un-Hotaru-like manner, before walking away.
It was a sarcastic remark.
------
Sakura Mikan was fuming. She hastily grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her small frame, without attempting to look at a certain Hyuuga Natsume who now has his back facing her.
Mikan dashed to the counter and grabbed the nearest weapon she can find unbeknownst to Natsume who she believed was blushing madly at that moment. When Mikan accidentally hit the wooden counter with her 'weapon', she noticed Natsume turning around to see her with an inquisitive expression.
With hands firmly clasping the handle of a knife, she began threatening Natsume with every step she took. "Do you think I am someone whom you can easily mess around with?!"
Natsume gazed boringly into her eyes, "I do not wish to be manhandled in any way Sakura. Put the goddamn knife down. And besides, you're still wearing a towel Mi-kan. Are you that determined to show your body to me again? It's not a good sight, may I remind you."
A loud clank was heard. The knife was forgotten. Natsume's grin became wider.
"I HATE YOU HYUUGA NATSUME!!!!!!"
"Our feelings are very much mutual, there's no need to remind me."
Mikan took one step closer to Natsume, fists balled tightly, "Don't you ever… EVER show your - OUCH!"
Natsume's smile wavered as an expression of panic slowly becomes evident in his face. He saw Mikan curled up on the floor, lightly sobbing and glaring at him in the process.
Natsume cannot help but shout. "Idiot! Why did you drop the knife?!!"
The girl cried louder, "BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU HATE BEING MANHANDLED AND THEREFORE I SHOULD PUT IT DOWN! IDIOT!"
"IDIOT! Then why step on it?!"
Mikan glowered at Natsume more, paying no heed to the small amount of blood oozing from the wound on her feet. "IDIOT! I DIDN'T SEE IT! Besides, I told you that the reason why I put the knife down was because you told me to!"
Natsume slapped his face in frustration. He could not believe that Mikan is someone who takes things literally. When he said, "put down" he meant "put it away" and any rational person would be able to understand that.
"So polka-dots, does that mean you'll be willing to follow anyone's orders?"
This argument is starting to get nowhere.
She bellowed at him, "Yes! My grandpa taught me to be obedient!"
Oh boy, at age 18, she sure is stupid. Natsume wondered how an idiot like Sakura Mikan managed to get into the waiting list of Tokyo U, which is included in the top 20 of the world's best universities as stated by Times. He remembered himself to confirm this tomorrow for fear that a mistake this big will taint the name of the school.
Natsume is a sly and evil person.
"So polka-dots, does that mean that when I ask you to get naked in front of me, you will do as I told you?"
"OF COURSE HYUUGA!" Mikan huffed at his comment. Oops. Wrong reaction. She should be screaming by now.
Natsume grinned widely. The wound has long been forgotten.
Their argument was getting nowhere.
"Oh really?!! Then undress yourself now."
She glared at him once more, before replying, "Of course Hyuuga, I will-"
When the reality of the situation suddenly dawned on Mikan, her balled fists unconsciously moved towards Natsume's ever so grinning face, until a shot of pain alerted her senses.
"OUCH!!!! HYUUGA YOU--"
Her sentence was cut halfway when a pair of arms scooped her inspite of her tantrums and plopped her down on a chaise lounge sitting nearby. Mikan stared at Natsume's surprisingly impassive face, while thinking that something has gone terribly wrong with the narrative of her life. When she was a child, she imagined of a clichéd situation like this, where her prince would carry her bridal-style, and would kiss her afterwards. Unfortunately, if her prince were to be Hyuuga Natsume, those clichéd romantic settings such as proposing in an ice rink under the stars, would be an event gone horribly wrong.
Because Sakura Mikan vowed never to fall in love with Hyuuga Natsume even if Hyuuga Natsume falls in love with her.
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment. The wound was once again forgotten.
When Natsume stared back at her with those deep, crimson pools, Mikan brushed off her dazed expression and intently stared at him in return.
"How long have you been yearning for me, Sakura?"
She spat at him, "You wish Hyuuga for I'll be the last person on earth who'll be yearning for you."
Natsume went closer to her face seductively as if everything was bound to happen once he touches her. "Say that after living with me for one year."
Realization sure hits hard.
"Hotaru may have sold me to you in exchange of having a free rent, but YOU will never have the chance to enter my territory again," hissed Mikan, accusingly.
"It's either you live alone and pay for the rent of this room by yourself. Or move out and look for another room, which I'm sure you cannot afford. To have Hobson's choice is to have no choice at all."
Their argument was getting nowhere.
The wound was long forgotten. The blood dropping from the wound was left ignored.
Sakura Mikan simply melted into his arms. Without protest.
Author's Notes: Yeah. Yeah. You guys can start clawing me now because half of this was actually the last part of chapter two. The only difference is that I focused more on Natsume's reaction in this chapter than in the previous one. I must admit that the last part of this chapter was hurriedly done too, but I prefer it this way.
Regarding Hobson's choice, the meaning of it is exactly what Natsume said. It just so happened that I came across my copy of Brighouse' Hobson's Choice in my room, which I have studied back in GCSE.
Constructive criticism is appreciated, because I have this glaring intuition that this fanfic is slowly losing fluidity as time passes by. (But to be honest, I love my fanfic, Schadenfreude, which you may want to criticize too.)
Thank you!