"Pause"

Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice, but I do own the plot in this story.

Authors' Note: I went back to my old stories and reread Taciturn, a one-shot I wrote four years ago. This attempts to share a similar feeling with that. Pause was born from a week of binge-watching, self-pity, and couch potato-ing.

As I've realized that I'm more comfortable and consistent in writing overlapping one-shot stories than continuing multi-chaptered ones, I wrote Pause with the idea of it taking place at the head of my currently written stories. It takes place immediately after the gang's graduation. From my current list, it's set three years before Koko Goes to Maid Café. It is by no means connected with everything I wrote from 2009 to 2012. Just like my other stories, this generally follows the anime (less drama/plots), but you may recognize some events from the manga.

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

Petty breakups were never Mikan Sakura and Natsume Hyuuga's thing. They argued but never to the point of letting it fall apart. The two of them getting together was no walk in the park, so they agreed to never let their arguments win. That's why when the unforeseen happened, trying to answer the question why became very difficult. After everything they've gone through, it was surprising that they let their mundane lives beyond the Academy's walls mess with their relationship.

At that time, Mikan didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. More than half of it was spent in Alice Academy, where she was supposedly taught how she could make use of her Alice in the safest, cleverest, most clandestine way. Because of having a passive Alice, all she had learned was using it defensively— which was actually all it's good for. Outside of Alice Academy, the ability to nullify Alices was a lame skill. The only possible move for her, and to every other confused Alice who had no idea and no plan, was to further studies.

But that wasn't what she wanted.

Truly, it was surprising when, between the two of them, Natsume was the one who wanted to pursue college. He was smart, but he was also quite lazy and a bit stubborn. When Ruka Nogi pointed this out, Natsume's eyes fell on his girlfriend, who was intently focused on her homework.

"If I took their offer, what would happen to her?"

Ruka lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Come on, Natsume, it's not like you don't know the answer to that. Mikan's going to be fine."

"Maybe she'll be fine in a few weeks, but what happens after? You know the Academy. One week could easily be one month, and they're offering me a year-long contract."

"You said so yourself, it's an offer. They're giving you a choice."

"They're giving me a choice now, but you know as well as I do that if I say no, they're going to make me."

"Then compromise with them," Ruka shrugged. "You know them better, and I know you. Outsmart them. Make a deal. If it were me, I'd be flying to Africa under a new identity."

"We talked about this, I can't pull off Tarzan the way you—"

"Foul," Ruka hissed at him, slightly annoyed by being reminded of the fact. Some things were meant to be buried center-of-the-Earth deep. "That was seven years ago, no one remembers it anymore."

Natsume snickered. "Trust me, .net says otherwise."

Although their discussion fell into a light, friendly banter, Natsume still thought about what he would do. When the Academy notified him that a biomedical research facility in Basel was interested in working on and with him, Natsume immediately knew that the underlying order was for him to take it. However, the Academy also knew that they technically had no control over him anymore. Giving Natsume a choice was the first exercise of freedom they've ever done to him, and he wasn't about to lose that— not when going to Basel meant he had to leave her.

Mikan couldn't meet his point, which was quite a surprise. Oftentimes, it was Natsume having difficulties trying to 'get' his girlfriend. If Natsume wanted to go to college, then to college he would go. He did, and she supported him every step of the way. On his first day, she got up at five in the morning to make him a heavily decorated packed lunch he refused to eat in public but still appreciated. Eventually, they both fell into a pattern that mainly circled on his class schedules. Although Natsume didn't tell her, Mikan knew he somehow enjoyed college. He probably didn't easily make friends with his less than pleasing personality towards other people, but she wasn't worried. However, when he offered her to do the same thing, Mikan grew skeptical.

"You know I can't survive college," she argued. "College people are scary. They're smart and quick-thinking and everything I'm not. I can't even understand political jokes. How am I going to survive that?"

"When I'm in school, I want to make sure you're not tailing after Hotaru. One, she won't let you. Two, you can't swim."

He was, of course, referring to the reason Mikan ended up in Alice Academy. At the moment, Hotaru was working on getting her license to become a professional. Being multi-awarded since the age of ten had its perks. Shortly after graduation, she hopped on the first plane to the US to meet with clients who wanted her even before she hit high school. This, of course, made Mikan very proud, but Natsume quite anxious. Sure, Mikan had long accepted the fact that she and Hotaru will remain friends no matter what happened, but Mikan could easily wake up one morning and say "I think I'm going to see Hotaru today!"

Feeling nonchalant, she waved him off. "I'm the Japanese Barry Allen. I can run on water."

His eyes narrowed at his girlfriend's sudden mention of Flash's alter ego. "I knewyou were the one messing through my DC Comics."

"Who else could it be?" She said quite laughingly, gesturing around their apartment, "We live together!"

"Which is why I thought you'd have a little more respect for my books."

"They're comics."

"Barry Allen demands more respect than that, Mikan."

After graduating from the Academy, the two of them decided to take a one-bedroom apartment near Natsume's university. There was no argument or big talk—they both assumed that wherever they'd go, they'd end up together. Sure, they did different things, but it was nice to come home to the person you loved for more than half of your life. To Natsume, though, there was something missing with Mikan.

At the beginning of his summer break on a warm August weekend, three weeks before his first semester ended, was when he introduced the idea of Mikan going to college. She was going to enjoy it more than he did, he told her. She could meet new people, take interesting classes, participate in different events. Natsume accompanied his suggestions with brochures, lists, and application forms. However, even without scanning through the papers, Mikan already had an answer.

"I'm not good in anything, Natsume," she told him when he opened the conversation once again. "I can't make a career out of being nice—and that's all I am. Nice."

"That doesn't mean you're not good in anything else."

The following week, Mikan was still being pressed by her boyfriend. It had gotten a little frustrating and quite distracting. She had been doing volunteer work lately and constantly being pestered was not helpful in any way.

"Why do you want me to go to college so much?" An exasperated Mikan asked. "I'm okay with what I'm doing."

As if to prove a point, she gestured at the huge banner she was making. Happy 67th Anniversary was written in bright gold paint. Their small living room area was covered in newspapers, 50ml cans of paint, and drying brushes.

"Mikan, you're not doing anything," he remarked pragmatically.

"Yes I am!" she retorted. "I help in the library. I help in the senior center. I help in orphanages. I like being everywhere, and I'm happy. I don't need to study for that."

When she went back to her banner in an attempt to terminate the conversation, he dropped down next to her. "Look, let's compromise. Go to college with me. Give it a chance, you'll like it. If you don't, I'll stop."

It was quite a turn of events for Natsume to negotiate with her; usually it was she who had to convince him to approve her ideas. So after twelve more days of constant badgering, annoying blackmails, and ignored nightly advances, she submitted the application form.

"I hate school!" Mikan grumbled as she threw herself to bed. She had just arrived from a three-hour lecture of alternate worlds and fictional universes. Sure it would've been interesting— for someone like Koko.

When Mikan gave in to Natsume's pleading and went to college, she didn't immediately hate it. It was simply difficult to enjoy something that wasn't originally your plan. Six weeks through and she realized she might've been in the wrong program. Frustrated, she relayed her thoughts to Natsume who, in turn, understood her confusion, so he showed her a number of other programs she could possibly shift to.

Natsume pushed his ledgers away and went to sprawl himself next to his girlfriend. His fingers started drawing light, ticklish circles on her shoulder. "So maybe Creative Writing isn't for you. What about culinary? You like to cook."

Mikan snorted in reply.

"Well, sweetheart you have to choose. Shifting forms are due next week." He kissed her on top of her head and moved towards the bathroom.

"I'm dying, Natsume!"

"What about majoring in Drama? You're pretty good at it."

She moved to throw a pillow at him, but saw that he was snickering. "Isn't there some general program I can take?" she asked instead, peering through the bathroom door. "Something like a jack of all trades thing?"

"I don't think so," he yelled from inside, "Maybe you can start one."

She let out her breath and started staring at the ceiling. When she replied moments later with "Or maybe I can just quit," he didn't hear because he had already turned on the shower.

By April, Mikan had moved on from Creative Writing and had gone to study under a different program. It all started after sending a lengthy letter to Mr. Narumi, expressing her frustrations over getting a degree and whether she should stay in a program she had limited interest in. Mr. Narumi replied in a lighthearted manner and said that she shouldn't be afraid to try new things, and has he ever mentioned that she had a keen eye and appreciation for art?

And so to Art History she went.

It was during Italy in the Quattrocentothat Mikan realized her heart was not in Art History, and that whatever feelings she had for it was just as Mr. Narumi said: appreciative. After working on a six-page comparison essay for European Cinema, she decided to re-open the long-abandoned conversation with Natsume.

However, trying to figure out the perfect opening was futile. Natsume was stumped with books on microeconomics as he pore over research and worked on his revisions. Mikan had no choice but to delay the talk. It was no good trying to stress him even more, she told herself. She pulled in delaying tactics and pretended that it wasn't because she was afraid of dropping a grenade.

It happened during summer break, around the same time last year when he cajoled her to go to school. They had just gone back from Nonoko's exhibit and dinner with some of the gang. Hotaru was in Frankfurt to self-promote her latest invention, Anna was at a fundraiser, and Mochu was interning two cities away, but most of them were there. What finally prompted her to talk to Natsume was Kitsuneme.

"How's school?" He gave her a grin over a complimentary glass of wine. He took a sip then made a face. "Damn, I hate yellow tail. Worst free drink ever."

"That's why it's free," she giggled. Unlike Kitsuneme, she had foreseen the unflattering taste of wine and decided against it.

"You didn't answer my question though," he pointed out before subtly trying to pour the contents of his glass to an innocent-looking plant. "You love to talk so yes, I noticed."

"Oh, school's great," she gave him a strained smile. "I'm learning a lot. Did you know how old the Mona Lisa painting is?"

His sardonic gaze was not missed. "Mikan," he said, "I'm an art consultant, which is probably one of the most boring jobs in the world, but even I know that information is boring."

She sang her words quite teasingly, "I bet you didn't know how much Mark Rothko made out of Untitled, 1961."

"Let me not guess."

"Twenty-eight million dollars, Kitsuneme. Twenty-eight million dollars for a painting that looks like a truck with a brush ran pass it. This is what I'm learning in school. Now ask me again."

"I guess art history is not your thing."

"That's an understatement. I don't know why I threw myself in there. I hate it. I do nothing but sit and take in information. I can't do it."

He eyed her warily. "So why did Natsume ask me a few minutes ago if I could get you a year-long pass to Taka Ishii Gallery?"

She bit her lip. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. "Probably because I sort of, maybe kind of… forgot to mention it."

Kitsuneme pursed his lips and decided not to push it. "Alright, so I don't know why you're letting your boyfriend think you love school—"

"I didn't tell him that! I just told him… oh wait, I think I did."

He threw her a cursory glance. "Tell him. Trust me, the guy's in love with you. Whatever happens, you'll be okay."

So after dinner and twenty-three relatively meaningful and slightly forceful looks from Kitsuneme (she didn't mean to count), Mikan told Natsume she wanted to drop out of college.

Natsume didn't take it quite nicely. In fact, she swore to herself that when things were finally settled, she'd borrow a gun from Hotaru and see how Kitsuneme's doing— but she couldn't do that until she and her boyfriend calmed down. Unfortunately, two hours later they were still both arguing.

Mikan was doing badly at school; Natsume told her she was unmotivated. Mikan lied about her feelings; Natsume told her she was withdrawn. Mikan wanted to drop out; Natsume told her she was irrational.

"I'm not good in anything," Mikan retorted. She shoved her mid-term grades in front of him and started pointing at the poor scores. "Look at this. I can't graduate with that. No one wants to employ a girl who half-heartedly went through college."

"You're failing because you don't try," He tried to keep his voice leveled, but getting into the same argument again and again was exasperating. "I know you better than this. You liked going to school. You were the one who badgered me to do our homework together, remember?"

"I didn't have to do all these research and I didn't have to actually think. I had everything in front of me in high school. I hate this. I hate being forced to major in something I don't want to do forever."

"I didn't force you—"

"You did!" She furiously cried, "You were so persistent that I take my butt to college and get a move on when I didn't want to do it."

"We made a deal," Natsume said firmly. "You told me you would try."

"And I did, and I didn't like it, so I'm done. I'm dropping out."

"Mikan, listen to me. You can't drop out when you didn't try in the first place."

"No, you're not listening to me! This isn't what I want for myself. It's never been my dream to do a smart people thing. This is your world, and Hotaru's, and Yuu's, and even Ruka's. But it's not mine. I love being around people even if it meant going to school, but I'm not smart. In my class, everyone always raised their hand, they always had their two cents on everything, they always knew what to do. When you're not as smart as everyone else, it's difficult to fit in. No matter how hard I try, I am never going to be like them."

"It's not always about being smart, it's about trying."

"I tried, and even though you think I didn't, I did, but I'm just not interested. I liked what I was doing before you made me do something I didn't even want to start."

"Volunteer work doesn't pay, Mikan." He found the need to remind her once more. "That's why it's volunteer."

"I'll get a job," she easily shrugged his words. "I can be a waitress."

"Then after that?" he said challengingly, admittedly in a desperate attempt that his words would make her rethink her decisions.

"I don't know. I haven't figured it out."

"I need to make sure you have a new plan. You can't jump to half-baked decisions."

"Then let me make my own half-baked decision. I want to do things by myself, at my own pace, in my own way. I need you to let me do this alone."

But figuring out what to do next turned out to be more difficult than she thought. When she was doing volunteer work, Natsume insisted she went to college. When she hated Creative Writing, he told her to choose another program. When she decided to become a college drop-out, Natsume stopped giving her she told him to let her do things her own way, Natsume took two steps back.

After she quit, Mikan decided to go back to the senior center and offer help in a women's shelter. Despite what Natsume said, she knew she would never be good enough for school. Being nice was who she was, it was what she was actually good in, so being nice worked for her.

However, being nice took up most of her time and energy. Since she had nothing to do except to jump from one place to the other, she wanted to commit as much as possible— even if it meant going through days without much conversation with Natsume despite living under the same room.

"Sorry," Natsume apologized at nearly two in the morning. He was bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, having stayed in the library until closing time. "I was working on this thing. I forgot to text you."

"It's okay," she assured him after giving an absentminded kiss. "I was working on the senior center's entertainment night. I'm planning to get some balloons up with curled foil strips. And maybe I can…" She trailed off, spying a flaw in her plan. "Wait, maybe this should be here, and maybe old Takuma shouldn't sit near the dessert table."

Natsume didn't mind because he was already fast asleep.

This stretched on for weeks. It wasn't something they noticed because they were both caught up in their own lives. Natsume was buried in college work, and Mikan was enjoying volunteer jobs. They were so engrossed in doing what they chose to do that they'd sometimes forget about the little things that used to matter.

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

The senior center's entertainment night felt like prom for the residents. The seniors wore their nicest clothes and their most loved shoes; seeing them made the hassle so much worth it for Mikan. She had been on it for over three months, making the decorations, choosing meals, and organizing the program. Before she left the apartment, Natsume was already on his second morning coffee over five sets of readings.

He frowned at his watch. "Aren't you a little too early?"

"I have to be there early, remember?" she replied briskly as she double-checked if she had everything in her bag. "You can go around seven. That's already late enough so please, please, don't be late."

"I promise," Natsume rolled his eyes before sipping his coffee.

Mikan pinned her hair in a nice bun and then leaned across the table, "Okay then, give me my morning kiss and I'll see you later."

Half past eight, Mikan sat on a table with some of the residents over dirty dinner plates. She quickly glanced at the clock on the wall before trying to mask her anxiousness with a quick gulp of soda.

"Now where's the strapping young fellow you kept telling us about?" Naisho asked Mikan over his reading glasses. He was an eighty-three year old man with five kids who all went to live in Australia.

Mikan pushed back another stray strand of hair back to her bun. "Oh, probably running late. He's been busy over school lately."

"That's no excuse," bright-eyed Reiko waved Mikan's words away, "A man should never be too busy for his woman! Back in my day, men paid better attention to women!"

"That explains why you're an old unmarried hag," Naisho commented wickedly.

"Naisho," Mikan scolded him, "Play nice."

"Oh, ignore him, dear," Reiko said uncaringly, "He's as good as your no-show man."

"Now, now, Reiko," Kazumi tutted. Her pretty grey hair was tied in a tight low bun, bejeweled with a fancy clip that she mentioned was a gift from her grandson. "I'm sure Mikan's man is nothing like that. What's his name again? Hatsuni?"

"It's Natsume, Kazumi, honestly," Naisho said. "How do I remember more about what the lady says when you lot are the women?"

"And here's why you should line up for Naisho, ladies," Mikan winked.

"Going back to your man," Reiko coughed, blatantly choosing to ignore Mikan's suggestions. "What time does he plan on going here? We're old people. We don't last until ten."

"What? You're not heading to bed until I give the gift bags!"

"We have gift bags?" piped Sirei, a seventy-something woman who always perked at the mention of good deals, discounts, and freebies. For many times, Mikan had took it upon herself to drive her to the groceries when they were on sale.

"Yes, and if you're lucky, you might get the one with the free meal coupons."

"Alright, forget about your boy, give me one of those!"

Mikan laughed and moved towards the table right at the very back, but as she pushed the cart that carried the brightly-adorned gift bags, she couldn't help but feel a bit sad and annoyed that Natsume wasn't there. So when she got home at half past midnight, tired and slightly under-fed, it took one look at her boyfriend to send her flying to her wits.

"I told you not to be late!" she hissed after throwing him her jacket, "Seriously, Natsume!"

Natsume, still slightly groggy from his sleep, peered at his girlfriend through the thrown jacket on his face. "What?"

"Why are you sleeping?" Mikan demanded.

"I'm taking a nap," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Why are you here? Did you forget something?"

"The event's done, Natsume."

"What do you mean? It's one o'clock," he said after stealing a glance at his wristwatch.

"In the morning."

"What?" his eyebrows were scrunched in confusion, and then "Holy—"

"Holy wouldn't even begin to cover it," Mikan growled. "I told you not to be late. I told you!"

"I know you're mad but please stop yelling," Natsume muttered and slumped back on the bed. "Damn, I can't believe I missed Haruka's class. He's going to kill me."

"Not before I kill you first."

"Mikan, calm down," Natsume sighed. He sat up and reached for her hand but she slapped his arm away. "No physical violence. Come on, give me a break. I was tired."

"So was I! I've been tired for months!"

"I'm sorry. Okay? Stop being mad at me."

"Mad wouldn't even begin to cover it," she mentioned curtly.

"I overslept," he said, wanting to just get done with it. "You saw me. I didn't even make it to my second class."

"You told me you'd be there. I've told you about this for weeks. I wanted you around."

"How many times do I have to apologize until you understand that I didn't mean it?"

"I don't know! You are so irresponsible!"

"Don't pull that card on me," he warned her. "I'm busy, Mikan. Stop holding it against me. I have a lot on my hands. I'm sorry I missed your event."

"So I stop being a priority to you?"

Natsume frowned. "I never said that."

"If it were an exam, if it were a group project, if it even were something you planned with Ruka and the others, you never would have forgotten, you never would have overslept," she exclaimed. Mikan's nose flared and her cheeks were a bright red, but despite how furious she looked, her watery eyes betrayed her. "I don't want to selfishly complain about not being your top priority when you have very important things to tend to, but I don't understand why us spending time together is something you don't seem to view as a priority."

"I don't think we'd have spent a lot of time together when you're busy talking to old people," he appeased rationally.

"But it's important to me, Natsume!" she cried, "I spent months working on making sure this would be a good one. These people are important to me. You know my weakness for grandparents!"

"Mikan. Listen to me." He held her face on her hands and focused his eyes on her furiously stubborn ones. "It shouldn't matter. I have my life, you have yours. If you like what you do, then I hope you're happy. If you want to go back home to me, that's great. But it's okay if we're not together around the clock. It's okay if you're not tailing after me and I'm not stalking after you."

"I just wanted you to see what I worked so hard on," she said timidly.

"I know you did amazing," he assured her. He pushed her hair back and kissed her on the forehead. "Shouldn't that be enough?"

She bit her lip. She took a deep breath. "No. It's not."

Halfway through his second year in college, the Academy contacted Natsume Hyuuga.

A couple of Januarys ago, when Ruka advised him to compromise regarding the Basel offer, he didn't expect himself to actually have the nerves to do it. He understood he was never going to be truly free from the Academy, and that even though he forced himself and Mikan into hiding, they would still find him—just like how they found him and Aoi all those years ago. However, because the threat of Natsume possibly going into hiding and making matters more complicated bore much aggravation, the Academy accepted the deal he offered: Tsubasa Andou was to take Natsume Hyuuga's place in Basel.

Tsubasa and Natsume were never the closest of people back in the Academy, mostly due to Natsume's jealousy over the former's relationship with Mikan. However, when they both ended in the same ability class, they both realized that they shared one other thing: they do what they had to do for people they loved. When Tsubasa found out that Natsume was being considered for Basel, he came back into the Academy, purposely broke in through Natsume's window just to spite him, and volunteered to go to Basel.

This was inherently a sketchy matter for Natsume. If Tsubasa went to Basel, he would have to leave his girlfriend and the life he built after the Academy. It wasn't much, but Natsume knew it made the couple quite happy, judging from the many letters they sent Mikan. Another thing was that he didn't want to be in debt to Tsubasa. Owing people was not something he liked doing. His reluctance was not missed by the senior.

"Live your life, kid," Tsubasa had told him.

And so he did.

However, the facility, after having explored and studied many Alices labeled to be dangerous, were eager to study a rare and life-shortening Alice. Two years, they decided, had already done enough with Tsubasa. They were sending him back home and wanted Natsume Hyuuga.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

For the longest of times, Mikan and Natsume spent their Sundays together cooped up with their own reading materials. When they were in high school, Natsume had his manga, and Mikan would hold a fiction book.

When Natsume went to college, sometimes he'd read an old one from his collection, a newspaper, or maybe go through his readings. Lately, it had been the latter.

Mikan would have a how-to book, a novella, or even a textbook from the nurse at the center or from the social worker at the shelter. Lately, it had been the latter.

From a relaxing Sunday date, it morphed into work. They used to sit side by side against a tree, and then on the couch, and then in bed, and then across the dining table. Lately, it had been the latter.

Now, this is how mornings started in their apartment, even on Sundays. Whoever got up first would make coffee. The other person would toast bread, to be placed in the middle of the table, while the other does his or her thing. Sometimes Natsume's on his laptop, and sometimes Mikan's on her phone. Sometimes he's making charts, sometimes she's making crafts. Sometimes, one of them would say "There's no more milk" or "We're out of eggs", and the other would say "I'll go to the grocery later". On some days, one would decide "I'm going out" and the other will go, "Okay, have fun."

Simply put, they stopped doing things together.

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

There was one thing that Mikan confirmed from being around so many people: she was good company. Now, that wasn't much if you thought about it. She could name a lot of her friends who were people persons, but were also good in something else. Mikan mastered none outside of human relations. She was good in running, she was an okay cook, she was a decent listener, and many other things that could probably earn her a Friend of the Year Award. And although it was extremely enjoyable being able to hang around so many people, it was also tiring. Sure, she insisted on becoming a universal help her temporary life mission, and of course it was rewarding to see bright thankful smiles, but, well, she also didn't get paid a lot, if at all.

But being Mikan, she was not about to tell Natsume that.

In the course of all this, Mikan jumped from one thing to another. She decided to try as many things as possible. They were light jobs—even monkeys could probably do it blindfolded—but they were places to go to, things to be done. She walked dogs, babysat, delivered express lunch, drove trucks (that only lasted for a week), and cleaned.

This drove Hotaru insane.

"Get a job," was her way of greeting the frazzled-looking but still beaming Mikan.

It's been about two months since they last saw each other. Hotaru had been busy with her inventions now that she's been supported by willing backers, so she was usually either in her lab or across the globe. That day, they were having brunch in a hotel she was currently staying at for a convention.

"I have jobs," Mikan smartly corrected her.

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "No, I mean get a job, where you sit or stand but you get paid on a minimum wage, like every other adult in the world."

"I get paid well, and it's not like I need much. Contrary to what most people think, Natsume and I can fend off pretty well with what we have."

"Mikan, it's been two years since we graduated. I'm about to get my license. What have you done so far?"

"Do you really want me to name them all?"

"Please stop with the cheek. I worry about you."

"Oh, Hotaru," Mikan gushed, "That's really sweet of you, but you don't need to be. I'm doing fine. I'm happy with what I'm up to, I promise."

"Is Natsume happy with your choice?"

"Natsume chose to support me rather than to force me do something I didn't want," she replied.

"So he's okay with it?"

"As long as I am," she countered breezily.

Hotaru let her words sink in. "Are you sure, Mikan?"

On a rare night that both of them had nothing to do, Natsume and Mikan would have a decent, home-cooked dinner together— one that wasn't bought, reheated, or done in ten minutes. For that night, Natsume manned the kitchen. He wasn't much of a cook, his food were quite boring, mainly consisting of quick tosses on a pan and deep fried meat. Mikan, however, was still thankful as it was a far cry from her daily intake of bland or prepackaged food.

"I was talking to Akagi earlier, I told him that I could take over the—"

"Sorry, who's Akagi again?" Natsume asked over his bowl of soup.

Mikan waved her hand impatiently. "The head guy at the women's shelter, remember?"

"Why is the head guy at the women's shelter male?"

"Are we going to argue about semantics or do you want me to continue my story?"

"Right, sorry."

"As I was saying, I told Akagi that I was willing to accept his offer if I—"

"What offer?" He interrupted her again, lost in her narration.

"Seriously?" she regarded him, dumbfounded. "Natsume, I told you about this last week."

"I can't even remember what my class was about this morning." He noticed the deadpan expression on his girlfriend's face. "Okay, I do, but you can't trust me to remember something you mentioned in passing."

"It was not in passing," she said laughingly, but a tone of annoyance coated her words, "It was a full-on conversation which, I now realized, was actually a monologue, thank you very much."

Natsume dropped his utensils and sighed. He rubbed his temples with his forefingers. "Let's not argue about this again."

"Maybe if you start listening to me, we won't be arguing at all."

"If anyone's getting angry over the other for not listening, I'm pretty sure it should be me."

"Excuse me? I listen to everything you say!"

"I'm not the one who dropped out of college because I refused to listen to my boyfriend telling me to give it a goddamn chance."

"Oh my god, Natsume, give it a rest! I'm happier now than when I was in college, couldn't you see that?"

"You're happy now, but what about in a few years? What if we're both in our thirties and you can't find a well-paying job because employers want impressive educational background and work experience?"

"I have work experience—lots of it. Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I'm going to end up begging for spare change outside your office." Mikan slumped against her chair when Natsume chose not to say anything. "Just let me do this. Please? I'm happy."

"How can you expect me to be happy when it's not the best for you?"

"I'm not asking you to be happy about it, I just want you to support it."

"Support what?"

"Alright, fine," she growled, the intensity of the argument coming back, "Support me doing nothing!"

"There, you said it!" Natsume threw his hands in a gesture.

"Yes, I did, because that's what you're thinking!" Mikan cried. She was so desperate for him to see sense. Why couldn't he just be okay with what she's doing with her life? "So what if I'm doing nothing? I like it! Helping people makes me happy. Seeing people smile makes me happy."

"I make you happy."

"Honey, this really is no time to be self-absorbed."

"How am I self-absorbed? I'm the one who worries ceaselessly about what's going to happen to you if you keep pushing for this crazy imagination of yours that you're going to survive by babysitting and walking dogs."

Unsurprisingly, this wasn't the first time they argued about it.

After their fight, Mikan went to Sumire and Wakako's apartment. It was barely an hour-long travel from home, but that was enough for Mikan to calm down a bit. The reason she chose their apartment was because, despite having mistakenly worshipped the most pugnacious and temperamental narcissist in Alice Academy, Sumire and Wakako were pretty rational. Also, the two of them were experts in cheering girls up after arguing with boys. Sumire was especially a pro in that department.

Sumire invited Mikan for tea, not even questioning the running mascara, red nose, and extremely ill-fitting pullover. She cleared the coffee table which was stacked with books, threw in pillows and comforters from her and Wakako's bedrooms, and immediately phoned the latter to come home as soon as possible because there was a Code Red situation. While waiting for the pizza delivery and her flatmate, Sumire pulled out a tub of ice cream from the refrigerator and dumped it in front of Mikan with a bright pink spoon.

"See?" Sumire said quite cheerfully, "I told Hotaru having emergency ice cream was not a stupid idea."

"Did you predict Natsume and I were going to fight?" Mikan wailed through spoonful of ice cream.

"No, but I knew you were going to need girl company. I know Imai's your best friend but sometimes she's a little too blunt for emotional breakdowns."

"Just like Natsume," Mikan grumbled, falling back with her ice cream. "I just can't understand him. He's so obsessed with this college thing and wants me to become one too. I can't do what you guys do. I'm not smart!"

"Hey, neither am I," Sumire replied, pointing at her discarded readings on the far corner of the room, "There's only so much political drama and international law my brain could take."

"But you're doing well, Sumire!" Mikan wailed some more. Maybe it wasn't a good idea going to Sumire and Wakako's, who were both getting degrees as well. It reminded her of Natsume's discontent. "I mean, aren't you going to some congress thing tomorrow?"

Sumire thought about this for a moment before she shook her head. "No, I don't think I will. I'm sure no one in in the student congress needs my help. You, sweetheart, clearly do."

That night, Mikan couldn't sleep.

She wondered if she should pick up the phone and call Natsume. She didn't have anything to say—should she apologize? But if she did, then Natsume would think he was right, and that she was wrong once more. To be honest, she couldn't handle being in the wrong again.

She chose not to and so she went to bed, letting her pride take over.

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

When Mikan left that morning to take some work over at Sumire and Wakako's apartment, the former rang up Hotaru to tell her about Mikan. It wasn't Sumire's place to tell, but she knew Mikan would refuse to go to Hotaru to avoid the impending "I told you so". Hotaru, on the other hand, decided to put the words she was itching to say for the sake of being a friend. She pulled strings like never before, and when everything was done, she phoned Mikan for a late lunch.

After giving the server their orders, Hotaru took in her best friend's appearance. She was wearing a grey two-sizes-too large shirt, slouchy sweatpants, mismatched socks, and a haphazardly-done ponytail. Her skin was pale, her cheeks lost their flush, and her lips were chapped. Mikan wasn't very particular about clothing but was always presentable, so if she actually went to volunteer looking like the undead, then there was something wrong.

Hotaru cleared her throat. "I went to the Academy this morning."

"Oh, really?" Mikan asked, forcing a tiny smile. "It's probably very boring now."

"Despite everything you've read in the online forums, you're really not that special."

"I'm half of a power couple," she pointed out teasingly, "Of course I'm special."

"Not much of a power couple when you don't have a job."

"Don't start."

Hotaru pursed her lips. Her best friend had way too much potential to spend it fleeting through meaningless things—which was why Hotaru decided to take matters into her own hands. "I had a talk with some of the teachers. Mr. Narumi was there as well, and he wanted me to give you something."

"Are they fluff puffs?" she asked eagerly, her back suddenly straightened.

"Don't get excited, it's just a damned letter. Here."

Mikan excitedly reached for the sealed envelope, but then eyed Hotaru warily, "Have you opened it?"

"Are you actually asking me that?"

"Right." Mikan slumped back to her seat and tore open the letter. She quickly read through it, until Mr. Narumi's elegant signature at the bottom.

Hotaru silently sipped on her tea. Mikan stayed put. She considered the letter, and even read it twice. Hotaru was already pouring herself another cup when Mikan looked up, her expression extremely baffled.

"They want me back at the Academy."

During Natsume's lunch break, Ruka called him up for a quick bite. And, because he was the non-judging but highly opinionated best pal, Ruka asked how Natsume was planning to tell Mikan about Basel.

"I don't think how is the proper word," Natsume muttered, "More like when."

"Dude, seriously?" Ruka stared at him in disbelief. Save for striking a deal with Andou about Basel, Natsume was never the type to delay things. He always faced them head-on and worried about it later. It was exactly why he would often get into trouble when completing missions for the Academy. "Just do it!"

"What do you want me to do?" Natsume said incredulously as he stabbed his lunch. "Mention it over text? 'Hey, I know you've got a lot on your mind right now but you should know, I'm moving to Switzerland.'"

"That's not bad," Ruka said, but then added after seeing Natsume's face, "Look, I know what you're doing."

"Trying to finish the rest of the semester's workload but failing miserably because my best friend is clingier than my girlfriend?"

Ruka ignored the jab and continued, "Stop trying to run away."

Natsume grumbled something incoherent. Ruka assumed it was a disgruntled denial.

"You were desperate to be average that you leaped at the first chance of normalcy after high school," he added in a harsh whisper, "Natsume, face it. You're a pyromaniac. You are not normal. You can never run away from being an Alice. To be honest, you have it easy. I can't exactly turn off my love for animals, can I?"

"You're Tarzan. I'm a Fire-bender. Sorry to break it to you buddy, but I'm much cooler than you are."

Realizing that Natsume purposefully ignored the first bit (confirming to Ruka that his theory was correct, which meant that his girlfriend owed him a twenty), he went on, "Just tell her. It's better than waiting for the last minute. Are you on some quest on breaking her heart?"

Natsume shrugged, not knowing how to even answer Ruka's question.

"What's the matter?" Ruka said sternly, catching on.

Natsume gave his friend a wry look. "We're not exactly civil at the moment."

"Why are you not talking? You live under one roof. You sleep on the same bed. You even take the same bloody shower."

"Sorry to disappoint but we don't. And I've been sleeping on the sofa. My neck does not approve." He decided it was best not to mention that technically, she hadn't gone home for two days.

"What did you do?" Ruka said suspiciously.

"Why do you automatically assume it's my fault?" Natsume scowled. "Whose side are you on?"

"Natsume," his best friend called sharply.

He went back to his meal, which suddenly seemed like a glob of unappetizing mess despite having dug a hole on his wallet. "We had a fight."

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

When Mikan saw Natsume again, she felt weird. They hadn't talked for over forty-eight hours (which wasn't new, really, but given the recent situation, it was a bit worrisome). She didn't know how to act. She knocked on the door because she forgot her key, and when he opened it, they both stared at each other for a while. Memories of the argument came rushing back at her—his dissatisfaction, her priorities, his frustration, her choices.

If she was being honest to herself, she badly wanted to hurt him, just so he'd know what it felt like to have the most important person in your life disappointed with you. She had supported him even though she didn't understand what he was doing half of the time, yet he couldn't do the same. It was all because of his stupid labels, because he thought a college degree meant you were better. He was so close-minded that it still frustrated her. She wanted to push him, to scream at him, to slap his face—anything to release the frustration and anger, but she had to salvage her dignity, somehow. If she gave in, he'd probably make an underhanded comment about being uneducated.

She loved him but damn, was he careless with his words!

A kiss on the lips felt a bit odd and unfitting to the situation, so she gave him a light peck on the cheek before pushing her way inside.

He closed the door behind them and cleared his throat, "Where've you been?"

"Sumire's," she said curtly before dumping her overnight bag on the dining table, purposefully landing on his books. Sure, she was going to keep her dignity intact, but there was no way she'd be the first to stop being a brat.

He was still wrong, after all.

"Didn't she want to go to some student congress?"

"Sumire thought I needed her more than some stupid conference."

He had obviously bristled at this, but was too smart to start an argument. Instead, he said, "Do you want some dinner?"

When Natsume asked that, Mikan was already thinking about what bento set to order, so she was entirely surprised when her boyfriend came out of their bedroom minutes later in a fresh shirt and a pair of sneakers.

He looked up at her puzzled face and asked, "Aren't you going to change?"

However, that didn't lessen the awkwardness during dinner. Was that even possible? Two people in a relationship with each other shouldn't feel awkward going out on a date. Natsume hailed a cab. Mikan got in herself. The rest of the ride was spent in utter silence. He closed the door behind him while the driver helped her out. The waiter pushed the door open to the restaurant. Natsume took a seat first. Mikan went straight to the ladies' room.

Going on a date wasn't supposed to be this weird.

They hadn't talked in the car ride at all. It was just Natsume with his face on his phone and Mikan out the window. The silence wasn't supposed to be prickly. It wasn't supposed to make her feel uncomfortable.

Maybe it's my news, she thought. Maybe she was the one feeling weird, and to Natsume it was just a typical dinner date. She'd have to break it to him, but in the best way she could so he'd maybe react a little less furiously. She was accepting the Academy's offer—no question about that. She didn't need Natsume's approval or opinions. He would hate it, no doubt. Natsume didn't like the Academy and everything that happened under their noses. He agreed it was an exceptional school but it was also very dark and dangerous.

But how do you break it to someone? How do you tell your boyfriend that you were taking a three-month teaching post to a place he desperately and eagerly wanted to escape from?

If anyone were to ask her, this was what people needed to study in college.

"Okay, Mikan," she whispered at her reflection on the mirror, pale and tensed, "Make it quick. Like pulling a band-aid."

Which was, really, the worst piece of advice you could give yourself on something as grave as her news, but she stupidly went with it anyway.

Over a bowl of mushroom soup, she proclaimed hastily, "I might go to the Academy."

Damn, she chickened out.

"Might," Natsume repeated the word carefully.

"I'm not sure yet," she shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. Maybe the band aid method wasn't her thing. Maybe Natsume will respond differently with might go to the Academy rather than will go. "I'll figure it out later."

"No," Natsume said, and then braced himself for the verbal war that was sure to happen next. It's now or never. "You have to figure it out now. I'm going to Basel."

There was silence, and then— "When?"

He took a deep breath. "Next week."

"And you're just telling me now?"

"I forgot."

"You forgot," she repeated incredulously.

She couldn't believe it. Here she was, on edge for having to break the news of leaving the apartment for three months, when he was going to another continent.

Clearly there was something wrong here.

"I had to finish my syllabi, and then you practically moved out these last couple of days. It slipped my mind."

"We had a fight," Mikan hissed at him, "But if I were going on a transatlantic journey in less than a week, I would've gotten over my pride to tell you the moment I knew."

"Really?" Natsume challenged, "How long have you known about the Academy?"

Mikan flushed. "This afternoon but," she added hurriedly, "The only reason I didn't call you was because I wasn't sure if I was going to take it in the first place."

"You're sure now." It was a statement, not a question, because he noticed the determination in her eyes. It was the same look every time she took a new hobby, had a new job, or got into a new fight with him. He felt a prickle when he realized she had decided to go without telling him.

Then he realized in discomfiture, he did the same thing.

"Yes," she said fiercely, her eyes in ablaze. "And you know what? You can't tell me what to do and what not to do anymore."

"I give you advice one time and you hold it against me forever. You could be so shallow," Natsume griped, resisting the urge to burn the napkin that he was clutching on his hand. Of course, he didn't realize that many customers were starting to complain about how warm it was.

"You're the one who wouldn't let me do the things I want."

"If being shallow means being afraid that you'll storm off to every door that opens, then damn it Mikan, but I don't think shallow even cuts it."

"I do not run off to doors!"

"You're inconsistent and indecisive. I never know what you want to do next. It used to be endearing and now it's just annoying."

"At least I'm not the liar!" she shot at him, hurt at what he said.

"I didn't lie," he said tersely.

"Not telling me you're going to Switzerland is lying! I was stupidly nervous trying to figure out how to tell you my news, but it turns out you're the one keeping secrets!"

Natsume thought about what she said for a moment and then asked gravely, "Don't you think the Academy's doing this on purpose? You getting an offer at the same time I was about to leave?"

"What exactly are you implying?" Mikan asked suspiciously.

"I'm thinking that this is all going according to their plans. That maybe they've been devising this all along."

"I'm sorry but what I'm hearing is an implication that perhaps I'm not really good enough and that the only reason I'm even being offered a job is so I'd get off your hair while you run off to Europe."

"Mikan, come on, it's not too far-fetched of an idea. The Academy would do anything to make sure I don't get distracted. The only reason I had to delay their initial offer was because of you."

"What, Natsume, just because I didn't want to get a stupid degree like you did, suddenly I'm not even good enough to earn a place in the same high school we went to? I know you were at the top of the class without even trying but with all that brain it's surprising how you could still have a selfish, inconsiderate, narrow mindset. If I had anyone to thank for the teaching post, it'd be Hotaru—not you."

"Sweetheart, you're blowing this out of proportion," Natsume said through gritted teeth, fighting to keep the strained smile on his face to ward off the curious stares. "I'm just saying that it's way too much of a coincidence."

Mikan buried her face on her hands before taking a deep breath and looking back at him. "Look, let's just get through dinner and talk about this at home."

Back at the apartment, Mikan and Natsume stayed on opposite sides. He was in the living room, propped on the couch, while she sat on a kitchen stool.

"What about your degree?" she asked him quietly. They had been doing this since they got home, throwing each other questions without shouting. It wasn't worth it. They were both resolute to their decisions, and fighting was tiring. Fighting just wasn't worth it.

"I'd take them online, but if that doesn't work, if the schedule gets in the way, I can request for a transfer. The facility would be happy to help."

"Of course they would," she said bitterly, "Who'd rob a man of a dying wish?"

They had also been doing this—throwing bitter remarks without the other bothering to defend.

"Why would you even want to go back to the Academy?" Natsume scowled, but he wasn't looking at her.

"I'm going to be a substitute, haven't you been listening?"

"No, Mikan, really. Why?"

Mikan didn't consider this before, she wasn't even thinking of it, but she was surprised that her mouth opened with a reply. "I went to the Academy with the sole intention of finding my best friend but ended up with something more. Natsume, it was like my shot of serendipity. Leaving it was painful."

He knew the Academy meant a lot to her, but he never knew this was exactly how she felt. She would always listen to him complain, so he just assumed that— wait.

He never knew because he never asked.

Close to giving an apology, he was disrupted by her next question:

"Do you want to go to Switzerland?"

"Yes." The answer was fast and clear. "Do you want to go to the Academy?"

"I've never been this sure before about something."

Neither of them spoke as they let their own replies flutter above them, until, "Do you think we can make it?"

Mikan's eyes met with his. She saw Natsume, in all his tired and wonderful glory. She remembered the very first day she met him, the time they kissed above the cherry blossom tree, the many instances they denied their feelings. She remembered how they held hands and went out 'as friends', how they fought when she'd go on dates. She remembered the moments she sneaked in the infirmary to take care of him, or when he'd pretend to be sleeping at the library so she wouldn't be studying alone. She felt her heart thump wildly with every memory, from when they were fighting at age eleven to the night he kissed her, really kissed her, after a six week-long mission.

Even though things were more dangerous then, they weren't as complicated as the present. She and Natsume, no matter how many fights they had, always ended up in the same room, the same cafeteria, the same library. They were bounded by the walls of the Academy.

She had never felt so distant from him until this moment.

The fact that she took her time in answering made his heart clench, even more when he realized that her doubts and fears were similar to the things he inadvertently buried deep in his thoughts.

"It seems we are at an impasse."

Mikan made a noncommittal sound before asking, "How long have we been like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like this. Don't tell me you didn't notice how distant we are. We won't talk for days and we're okay with that. That's not how relationships work, right?"

Neither of them knew who got hurt more when Natsume confirmed, "Right."

"You're going to Switzerland for who knows how long while I'm still trying to figure out what to do for the rest of my life. I'm holding you back, you're holding me back. Natsume, we can't stay like this." She then added painfully, "And to be honest? I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting. We're just… different now."

He cleared his throat. "This is it?"

"This is it?"

Had it come to this, she thought.

Why did I let this happen, he thought.

"Pause," she suddenly said. "Let's just… pause."

"Pause," Natsume repeated slowly. "I'm flying to Basel next week, you're going back to the Academy, and you want to pause."

"It's a word I learned," she told him, "When you don't want to stop."

"Pause doesn't work for us, Mikan. You know that. We don't take breaks in this relationship. We stay or we go, we don't sugarcoat. That's other people. That's not us."

"We're no different from other people, are we? We're a disaster. We fell apart. Why are we still together?"

"I love you."

"I know you do, and you know I love you with all my heart, but look at us. Can you tell me right now that you're happy with what's happening with us? That we're always fighting and just leaving it unclosed for the sake of stopping the argument?"

"Please pull your head out of the clouds for a second," Natsume groaned, "Pause doesn't exist in the real world. We can't pause."

"Do you want this to end? Because right now, we're angry and we're confused and like always, we probably won't mean most of the things we said tonight. So I propose we pause this for a while because I really, really can't think properly right now."

"What does pause do, exactly?" He asked her.

"I don't know," she echoed the same words she said the night she decided she was giving up college, "I haven't figured it out."

This wasn't missed by Natsume, and he wondered if that meant she had given up on them too. He wondered if pause meant she wanted him, but didn't need him anymore.

Little did he know, she was wondering the same thing.

"Bad day?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes, "You have no idea." She slumped on the sofa, her eyes furious and her lips in a tiny pout.

It was five days before Natsume flew to Basel. He was hurriedly finishing his syllabi while Mikan separated their possessions to piles of His, Her, and Donate.

Natsume dropped a tea bag on Mikan's cup while making his own coffee. "Tell me about it," he said.

"I lost my class lists," she grumbled. "I think it got messed up with the hospital logs or the forms from the center, because I hadn't seen it for two days. Now I have to trace every paperwork I rushed these last couple of days, and just look at that—" she pointed at the downpour outside "—going back and forth to two places each on opposite side of town is not a walk in the park."

"Can't Narumi get you a new one?"

He thought he didn't hear her, but it turned out she was just upset by having to explain. "He's on a mission," she added quietly. "Won't be back until your going-away party."

Natsume thought of how to thread through the conversation, and then decided to lessen the stress instead. "He's not going to the party, is he?"

To his relief, Mikan laughed lightly. "No, he'll be recuperating for a day. He said, if I haven't changed much, I'd be quite a handful."

"Hardly false," Natsume commented slyly as he moved to sit next to her, handing her the cup of tea. They were both quiet, lost in their thoughts.

"You think we're doing the right thing?" she asked the question that hung in the air. "You going to Basel. Me to the Academy. Is it right?"

"Probably," he answered vaguely.

"But is it right? I mean, what's out there that we don't have here?"

"I don't know, but we wouldn't be looking at what's out there if we were happy here."

His answer surprised the both of them, not because of how blunt it was but because of how much truth the statement bore. Silence fell into the room, the only sound was the pitter patter of the rain hitting against the windows.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered quietly. "I really am. Who's going to heat up my pre-packaged grocery dinner? Who'll warm my canned soup?" She abruptly stood up, panic evident in her face. "Who'll make sure my ramen is heated at a certain degree?"

"I'll get you a microwave tomorrow," he replied easily. "It probably won't be as hot as I am but…"

With a chuckle, Mikan playfully shoved him with her shoulder. Almost reflexively, he put his arm around her, and for the first time since their breakup, Mikan settled herself on the curve of his shoulders. For some reason, the warmth of her tea was nothing compared to the warmth of Natsume's arms.

She really was going to miss him.

"I think I'm going to be fine," Mikan said after a moment. "Mr. Narumi will be there, and even though we weren't great friends, I'm sure Jin-Jin missed my loud voice."

"Look after Youichi and treat him like a baby," Natsume snickered, "That'd annoy the crap out of him."

"I'll do that after I get the respect of my students," Mikan said, but Natsume's idea excited her. "I'm not putting it past Youichi to be mean even though I'm a teaching assistant. He takes up after you way too much."

"I wasn't mean to you," he scoffed, but then she threw him a sarcastic look that said Really? He hastily replied, "I had a lot of issues. You were too sensitive."

She shook her head with a smile and settled back on his chest. "You loved me anyway."

"I do," he corrected her after a moment, before lightly kissing the top of her head.

No one was supposed to know that Natsume was going to Basel, but when Yuu found out from a mutual acquaintance, he was insistent on throwing a going-away party for Natsume. Because the latter's the least celebratory person and was currently in the least festive mood, the party became a private affair in a hotel suite.

But that remained to be the only thing that people knew.

Mikan was hardly ready to face all the big changes in her life, so it made sense that they delay telling their friends that they've 'paused' things. Despite being horrible in keeping their relationship drama to their selves (circa their high school years), Natsume and Mikan surprisingly made it through the party.

"When are you planning on telling them?" he approached her quietly.

The suite they were in had a fantastic view of the city skyline. They had ordered in food, rented tapes, and brought playing cards. Yuu had organized everything, which was a relief because neither Natsume nor Mikan were up to party-planning. Currently, they were both fixing and unfixing the food on the dining table, trying to pass time together, but not really focusing on what the other's doing.

"I don't know," Mikan surmised, "When I'm okay with it?"

"Okay with what?" asked Kitsuneme.

"Tell us what?" piped Mochu.

"Hey, guys," Koko grinned, stepping between them.

Mikan hit her forehead with the palm of her hand, "Oh boy."

Kitsuneme had a big bowl and was filling it with popcorn, chips, and crackers. Mochu started throwing in more chocolate popcorn over Kitsuneme's caramel-flavored ones. Koko was grinning up at Natsume and Mikan, expecting an answer.

"Hey," Natsume nodded at them. "Koko, how's the courtroom these days?"

"Don't talk to him," Mikan hissed, "He'll read your mind."

"He's wearing a controlling device," Natsume muttered.

"But I'm not deaf," Koko said cheerily, "So I can still hear you perfectly well."

"Tell us what?" repeated Mochu, eager to know. He started eating from the bowl, waiting for an answer too.

Mikan hurriedly turned to Kitsuneme, "Have you heard? I hated Art History."

"I know," Kitsuneme said, his eyes squinting. What was wrong with these two? "Apparently, I talked you out of it."

"Is that what Natsume told you?" she playfully elbowed the guy next to her, whose hands were loosely resting on her waist. Appearances were important, they had decided earlier that evening. Then again, after years of it being second nature, it didn't seem much of a challenge at all.

"No," Kitsuneme assured her, "But that's why Hotaru hit me with her baka gun in the middle of an exhibit I was hosting. I didn't know it was still functioning, honestly. I thought she outgrew them."

"I'm never outgrowing my guns with you around," Hotaru said aloofly, turning up in the huddle as well. She reached for the sushi platter, practically inhaling all the crab meat.

"Tell us what?" Mochu chimed again.

"Excuse me?" asked Hotaru.

"Natsume," Mikan pulled her boyfriend, desperate to avoid her nosy friends and Hotaru who'd probably nail everything in one exchange, "Let's go thank Yuu."

Their hastiness caught the attention of Sumire, who, at that moment, was picking out the coldest soda in the cooler. She pulled Koko by the sleeves. "What's up with those two?"

"There's something Mikan's not telling us," he frowned, then winked with a wicked smile. "But they probably just want some last-minute sex. I mean, he's going to be gone for a year, right?"

"Ugh, you're disgusting," she lightly hit him on the arm, "Those are our friends."

"They're the ones hiding secrets."

Wakako literally slid in the conversation thanks to her party-themed socks. "Who's hiding secrets?"

"Mikan and Natsume," Sumire said, ready to go on full sleuth mode. "Know anything?"

Wakako pursed her lips. "I'm at a blank, because there are so many possibilities. Hey, Ruka!"

Two minutes later, Ruka interrupted Mikan, Natsume, and Yuu's conversation. The three had moved into the lounge when everyone else frantically headed to the dining table for refreshments, apparently. "Alright guys, what are you not telling us?"

Mikan threw Mochu a nasty glance.

"What? I was curious," Mochu shrugged, although not sounding the least bit apologetic at all.

"Something we need to know?" Yuu prodded.

Mikan and Natsume shared a look. "Um, yeah," Mikan said timidly. "We just didn't want to, you know, mess up with the party and all."

"It'll hardly mess up the party because it's not for you," Hotaru said, rolling her eyes. She went to address everyone else, "Mikan's taking a temporary post at Alice Academy."

While Mikan received pats on her back, hair tousles and Good jobs, Natsume went to Hotaru.

"You know," was all he said.

"She didn't tell me," Hotaru assured him, though no tone of assurance or compassion was in her voice. Clearly, she did not understand why they broke up, to which she told him, and then added, "I know that you two tend to be irrational with some of your decisions so I hope this isn't one of them."

"Take care of her," Natsume said instead.

"You should tell Ruka," Hotaru told him. "I won't be around all the time. Ruka can check up on her."

"Ruka might not understand."

"I don't understand, and I bet neither do you. I just don't want Mikan to suddenly turn up at my hotel room on the other side of the world just because she wanted to see me."

Natsume fought to hide the memory from resurfacing in his mind, but he couldn't; he remembered telling Mikan, about two years ago, that she could easily wake up one day and suddenly decide she wanted to see her best friend.

She might do that soon, who knows?

"Answer one thing for me, Hyuuga." She waited for him to acknowledge her question. "Why?"

He exhaled deeply, scratching the back of his head. "We needed to pause."

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

"Have you figured out what pause meant?"

They were at the airport, waiting for Natsume's flight. To say the morning had been awkward would be an understatement— as if still living together after you've already broken up wasn't. But what do two people who've broken up say to each other, exactly? You don't just say bye, do you? Or you do, then quickly leave? Do they hug and cry? Maybe share a silent, meaningful moment?

Mikan watched as this beautiful, selfless man gazed at her. Looking at him now felt different. Admittedly, it had been months since she had last done this. In high school, when pressures were nonexistent and stress was minuscule in comparison to the present, they'd sometimes lay together while she watched him read. She used to do it before they went to bed, back when he didn't have a book on his face and she didn't have logs on hers.

It used to be her favorite thing to do.

"Maybe pause doesn't mean picking up from where we've left," she said slowly. "Maybe it means picking out what you don't want to be left."

He frowned. They have been together for quite some time, and across the years he thought he's mastered Mikan already. Maybe he did, at one point. The Mikan he saw right now wasn't easy to read. She was a little closed off, a little shy, a little too forlorn. He was trying to understand what she was saying—he really was—but for some reason it had become difficult. What exactly was she trying to tell him?

Seeing his confused expression, she tried again, "Maybe it doesn't mean pausing the relationship. Maybe it means pausing our lives… to say goodbye to what we need to leave."

He let out his breath which he didn't even realize he held; there was it. He'd always known that she would be the one to break things up, if it happened. He knew she deserved more than what he could give her. He wasn't affectionate, showy, and romantic. He made up for it in other things, and Mikan swore there was nothing wrong with him, but he knew someone like her deserved someone who knew how to treat her right. A small selfish part of him just wished she would never realize that.

"I see," was all he said. He reached for her hand and lightly played with her fingers.

"What do you think you'll do there?" she asked a little brightly, "I mean, sure it's for research, but you'll be in Switzerland. Do you know how many people want to go to Switzerland?"

He shook his head.

Mikan rolled her eyes, "Seriously, haven't you even been looking it up? They have a lot of festivals… and chocolates. You know that, right?"

"I gather you've been doing research," Natsume smiled wryly.

"Well, yeah," Mikan said a little too casually. "I had to know what you were heading for."

"I'd do the same for you, except I already know."

"I know you still don't like what I'm doing," Mikan said, running her fingers across his callouses. "I know you still think I could do better."

"You thought you could too," he pointed out, reminding her of their conversation when she asked if they were doing the right thing.

"Yes, but… we could do worse. I could still be waiting tables while you lot are getting degrees, and you could still be doing missions for the Academy. But we're not."

He responded by placing his lips on their enclosed hands.

"You think you're going to be there longer than a year?" she asked him.

Natsume shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, yet Mikan's question had always been his constant worry—ever since he got the offer before their high school graduation. "Who knows? They're inconsistent."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

Mikan didn't answer. She asked because she wanted to know what he was feeling. It wasn't easy trying not to be a girlfriend. She didn't know how to ask him without sounding worrisome, or overly concerned. But at the same time she didn't want to worry about him. She loved Natsume with all her heart, but it hurt having someone not understand you.

It hurt when he'd remind her she was wasting her life away.

It hurt when he'd say she was doing nothing.

It hurt when he'd pay more attention to his work than he ever had of her.

It hurt because she thought she and Natsume could chill together for the rest of their lives… that they could just go with the flow like they've always had, that they could just treat every day as a warm Sunday afternoon.

It hurt because he had plans, and she had none.

It hurt because Natsume was the one soaring through unexpected heights, and there she was, almost as if it was her first day at Alice Academy: determined but naïve and uncertain.

"I should go."

She and Natsume fell apart because they weren't on the same page anymore. No one can blame her if she wanted to go back to the Academy, or if Natsume wanted to fly thousands of miles away. Mikan needed some closure from the place she treated as her home. Natsume was off to save lives, but hopefully including his.

"I know."

Mikan used to think that I love you fixed everything. Why not? It happened in her favorite romantic novels and cheesy chick flicks. I love you got the job done, immediately patching up an argument or a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, I love you didn't work for Mikan and Natsume because, Mikan realized, saying it was different from feeling and knowing. They've grown separately, but too far apart. I love you didn't save their relationship, because at the time there was almost nothing to save.

"Bye."

It happened to people. They weren't any different.

Mikan watched as Natsume walked away. Her heart felt heavy and her eyes betrayed her—a moment more and her knees were close to giving up, too. Was this what heartbreaks felt like? She was unfamiliar. She didn't know breaking up with someone would be this crappy. Weak legs and heavy chests and stinging eyes. So many body parts fighting for attention, but her heart? Her heart couldn't even get him to look back.

When she raised her head to look at him for one final fleeting moment, everything seemed to discontinue. Natsume stopped walking towards the gate. People stopped moving. Planes taking off halted mid-air. Loud cries ceased.

Perhaps for some people, pause meant taking a break to run after what you want, but picking up where you left off when things were okay again. Maybe for them, pause meant assessing your current life and handpicking the things or people that don't belong anymore. Maybe doing this was something she hasn't done yet, but everybody does—maybe she has to give up certain things mid-life because they don't fit in anymore. Maybe this was what she had to let go of. Maybe she was meant to give him up so she could find herself.

The realization didn't mean it hurt less.

A sob escaped her lips, and then every movement resumed. Natsume came closer to the gate. People walked around her. Planes shot to the sky, their engines loud and deafening. Noises arose, and she picked out emotions that ranged from delighted to drained, with very few mirroring hers. She watched him take one step after the other until finally, he was not in sight anymore. She straightened her back, took a deep breath, and then turned around.

Life didn't stop. It just paused.

A/N: If you want to know what happens next, I will be posting it as a new story (although I might do three more stories under this, who knows!). Check out from time to time or put me on Author Alert! Some of The Wedding Series readers put the one-shots on Story Alert. Like I mentioned in the above Author's Note, I've become too partial to one-shots than multi-chaptered stories lately, so this would be part of a series as well.

Lastly, thank you so much for reading! I hope your heart broke with mine- and theirs.