Chapter 2

Natsume woke up in the morning two hours earlier than he usually did. He felt something was wrong, but he couldn't remember what was bothering him. Well, at least he couldn't remember, until he took a quick glance at his half-charred, half-mauled room. Mikan is dead. She's been dead for a year now, and yet he only found out yesterday, you idiot.

When he got to his room last night, he remembered shouting and screaming. He was so angry, yet at the same time, so sad. He kicked and punched anything – everything – within reaching distance. He burned half the room, frightening his help staff to the point that they were about to call the mental hospital.

He just hated the world. He found it stupid.

Stupid academy, for making him leave. Stupid Ruka, for not protecting Mikan. Stupid Mochu, for being the cause of her death. Stupid him, for leaving her and the academy behind.

For not protecting her.

For believing Mochu would never hurt her. As if.

For not burning Mochu when he had the chance.

For being alive.

For falling in love.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Natsume hated himself, but his self-loathing was not evident on his face. Then he realized that he should also hate himself for that, for not showing his emotions. His ability to obscure his feelings were useful in some events, but also because of it, Mikan died without knowing that he loved her deeply.

Again, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Was it possible for one person to be so stupid?

Work.

The whole day had already passed, and Natsume had yet to say something. Not that he ever talked much, but still, the silence was eerie. All his employees and co-workers were wondering if he was okay. Usually, he would glare and get mad at everybody for every small detail, but today, he just seemed out of it. He looked like a zombie. A human shell, with nothing inside of him to prove that he was one hundred percent there.

He didn't bother walking home like he usually did, using the coffee-shop route. He didn't feel like it today. He didn't feel like anything today. He couldn't feel like anything today. Why should he? The love of his life is dead. So instead, he dialed the mansion for his car.

"Sir?" His chauffeur's surprise was very evident in his tone, owing to the fact that he usually preferred to walk home alone. If he called to be picked up, something must be really wrong with him.

"Bring the car right now. Hurry." Natsume's voice was dead and emotionless.

"Right away, sir."

Something interesting caught his eye on the drive home. It was the girl. The girl who made him search through those damned files in the first place.

Where is she going? Natsume thought. He debated stopping the car, until he remembered her reaction to him yesterday. So instead, he decided to follow her on foot.

Mikan sighed heavily. Yesterday, Natsume almost caught her. Happy as she was to see him, she wasn't about to blow her cover and revealing to him that she was still alive. Besides, she had a job that paid well. Not that she was proud of it.

And she was late. Again.

It would probably be another long night. Yesterday, her customer, Richard Jackson, was so drunk, he forgot about what he was paying her for – her body. He spent the whole night talking about his wife instead. It was mostly random and weird things, such as she liked to play tic-tac-toe, or she served spaghetti every Thursday. Apparently, the woman left him because "too boring," and Mikan didn't disagree; he spent thirty-or-so minutes talking about the color of his wife's favorite shoes. But she sympathized on with him; she knew all too well what it was like being left.

Her cell phone vibrated. Eight-thirty. It was getting late. She picked up the pace, heading towards the alley

A man was leaning on the wall, waiting for her. "About time," the man growled. "You're late."

Mikan didn't reply, she just silently remover her coat. She closed her eyes, wishing fervently that it would be over soon. The man pushed her back against the wall, his hot breath tickling her ear with words she heard almost every night. Zero points for originality, she thought.

Next the man kissed her, his slimy tongue dancing it's way into her mouth, his hands feeling up her clothes. She shut her eyes even tighter, concentrated on what was around her. The cold cement on her back, the damp smell of the alley, footsteps in the distance, getting louder and louder…

Wait. Louder and –?

Suddenly, her whole body was surrounded by heat. Unbearable heat. She opened her eyes and gasped.

The man was burning. Really, on-fire burning. Her jaw dropped, as if to scream, but no sound came out. She couldn't move; she couldn't control her own feet. She couldn't run away from the terror.

So this is how I'm going to die, she thought. At some level, deep down inside of her, she knew it didn't matter whether she died now, or in twenty years, since no one knew she was still alive, anyway. Except maybe Natsume. Since he almost caught her the day before. But he wouldn't know she was supposed to be dead. Would he?

"Get out of there, idiot!"

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. Or think of the devil. Whatever. Oh, how that stupid rule applied to her life.

Author's note:

This is just a thank you gift for all those who reviewed. If you didn't review, I'm not thanking you. Sorry, but that's my policy.

I swear to god, this isn't complete. I am so sorry. First I had intrams, then I had school camping trip, then I had academic week, after that … well, you get the picture. I was busy. And I still am. It was almost impossible to find time to write this then type it up.

This is just a preview of chapter 2. The complete chapter soon to come.

If I don't get many reviews, I won't even update. What's the point of updating if no one's going to read it in the end? I'd just keep it to myself.

REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW.