Tachibana Higuchi owns Gakuen Alice, always has and always will.

Chapter thirteen

Natsume woke up to a slightly heated atmosphere. Not heated, perhaps more humid. He felt a wet cloth upon his forehead before reaching out to touch it.

His eyes rounded about the room to recognise its familiarity and with that came the relaxation effect of knowing that he was safe. Mikan's room was lightly scented with tangerine blended with lavender that was lulling him to return to a tranquilized sleep.

He shook his head. He should be getting up anytime soon now.

Natsume felt sweaty in spite of being dressed in comfortable clothing which immediately called to his attention.

I wasn't wearing-

"Oh, you're awake."

He looked up to her.

"Evidently. Can I get a glass-"

"On the bed table." Mikan rendered, folding her arms. "The doctor said you need to take a lot of fluids."

Natsume took the glass of water that had been kept beside him, on the bed table before slowly sitting up. "Doctor?"

"You had a fever of 103°F , Hyuuga."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Well, I need to go to another meeting tonight. So-"

"Which part of you having a fever ranging at 103°F did you not comprehend?"

"I've had worse, Polka. I can handle a little temperature."

"Doesn't mean you're going to."

"You can't decide things for me. I am an individual-"

"With various suicidal tendencies, Hyuuga. I understand. But no."

"Oh really?" Natsume asked, leaning against the pillow with a smirk gracing his lips.

"You better stay in bed."

"Make me."

Mikan flinched at undertones that ran down her spine. She took a deep breath but her resolve of indifference broke when she saw him smirking wider at her.

Damn this guy!

"Hyuuga, I generally don't like forcing people to do anything against their will. But if I allow you to get out of the bed this instant, chances are you'll end up in an accident so sit tight, will you?"

"I don't want to."

Mikan gritted her teeth. The fact that Natsume was just as horribly obstinate as herself was annoying, she sighed.

Well, if that's how he's going to be then. . .

"I honestly do not wanna do this. But Hyuuga, I used to be a street fighter. And I'm still pretty good in shape."

Natsume suddenly didn't like wherever this was going, "so?"

"So physically, I'm more powerful. Unless you want yourself and your gigantic masculine oriented ego to be knocked out by a punch, you stay right where you are, darling." She smiled sweetly, knowing that she now had the upper hand.

"Are you threatening an ailing person by using your superiority in physical force?" He questioned, incredulously.

"If said ailing person isn't willing to take care of himself? Let me think." Mikan paused, tapping her fingers against her cheek. "Yes!"

"Also, I'll be bringing soup in a while why don't you just lay down and rest?"

Natsume opened and closed his mouth several times, being at a complete loss of words. Realising how he had absolutely no say in this matter, he quietly rest his head on the soft, strawberry printed pillow.

"Alright, but. . " He looked up, cocking his head to the side. " What's in it for me?"

"Your fuckin' health, you ignorant alpaca!"

And she slammed the door with a thud.

Well, it wasn't like she was wrong but hey, on the bright side of this situation she at least wasn't kicking him out of her (or rather their) house. That indeed was a plus point.

Natsume thought before heading to the washroom to wash his face and mouth. He sat back on the bed and about few minutes later, Mikan brought a bowl in which he assumed was the soup.

"By the way, did you change my clothes?"

"Ah yes." Mikan casually replied.

"How very desperate of you." He narrowed his eyes with a glimmer of mischief.

"Are you generally this annoying or does being sick transform you into an unbearable Kangaroo?"

"To you? Both."

"Why did I expected that?" Mikan said more to herself than to him while setting up a portable bed desk and carefully placing the bowl on it.

"And although you have odd choice of cursing someone, they tend to be entirely entertaining."

Mikan narrowed her eyes. "You do know that my cuss words have meaning behind them right? Kangaroos are known to be one of the most annoying animals in the world."

"And does an octopus shaped walnut actually exist?" He challenged.

"Umm, yeah, what's your temperature now?" She brought a thermometer and completely avoided the topic. Natsume smirked in mirth at her attempts of changing the course of conversation.

"102.9° F . Not very good really." Mikan stated, reading the scale.

"Perhaps but wait. . ." Natsume said, remembering a vague fact that he had noticed when he had woken up.

". . .didn't my clothes and luggage arrive or did you burn them with my men like you said you would?" Natsume asked genuinely curious before taking a spoonful of the soup.

He paused at the taste, it felt. . . very nostalgic. Though he wasn't sure what exactly has Mikan put in there but it reminded him of something he'd never had. Something very far away from him.

Just that he didn't actually know what it was.

"I wish I did. But unfortunately they didn't arrive." Mikan said with a lamenting tone, snapping his attention to her.

"Oh, alright." Natsume said blowing gently before having the soup, his body was aching but he tried his severe best to cover it up. You see it was unacceptable to someone of his origin and breed to admit to pain or torture. He was never taught to open up, let alone acknowledge what was pain.

Unknown to him, a few feet away, Mikan stood with her eyes watching every move he made.

She shook her head.

"Let me."

Natsume looked up, take slightly by surprise before she gently pushed his legs to the side and sat on the bed before taking the spoon from his hands. She blew the soup with wariness before raising it to Natsume who still stared at her bewildered, like he had never known how it was to be cared for.

"What's wrong?"

At an unhurried pace, he shook his head and silently let her feed him. Mikan, though, found it amusing she didn't question it.

"You wear a lot of rings." Natsume stated, attracting Mikan's attention to her own hands. "Also, you actually have pretty small hands."

"Thanks, my hands are pretty." She smiled, completely ignoring the latter part of his sentence, Natsume rolled his eyes but continued.

"But on a serious note, why?"

"Because, they're. . . eh? How do I say? Umm, they're like milestones to me."

"Milestones?" He ventured further, staring at all six rings she wore. "So each of them has a metaphorical label attached to them?"

"Yeah but not all. This one for an example, I stole from an American woman when I was seven." Mikan pointed to her left hand index finger. "Now I just have it as a keepsakes."

Natsume's jaw dropped in a rather careless way. Mikan continued, "hey now, don't give me that look. It's just that I always had this uncontrollable need to pickpocket or shoplift. I don't even like the things I steal. It's just the fact that I stole it that makes it special."

"Strange habits but alright." Natsume shrugged. "Did I tell you about this one time when I burnt down a storehouse just because I thought it'd look pretty in flames?"

Mikan for a second almost coughed up on thin air, she sat upright in astonishment, "you what?!"

"Well, I don't know if you know this but I like flames and fire. Like would be a poor understatement though."

"Liking fire is one thing and burning a storehouse up in flames just cause you thought it'd look pretty in orange hues is quite another, Hyuuga. I think there's a term for it. . . Pyromania?"

"That." Natsume said in agreement. "Anyway, later I was so kindly informed by Ruka that the storehouse belonged to some ancestral Japanese Yakuza and that the storehouse contained 450 kilograms of cocaine."

Mikan pressed her lips to cage a laugh. "And then?"

"Well, I paid the money for the consequences of my very versatile reaction only to avoid an additional gang war but hey it's a good bedtime story."

Mikan burst out in laughter, Natsume observed her trying to hysterically end her giggle and failing miserably. It was lovely seeing her smile and laugh that way, something told him that it was literally what she was meant for. He wondered if universes afar they would've met in a different world. Where they'd be introduced to each other in the most absurd way possible.

But then again, not like he hadn't met her in the most absurd way possible. He decided that someday he'd ask he exactly how bored was she to prank call an international number. Someday.

After finally suppressing her chuckles as she noticed the bowl to be empty. "I'll bring you water."

Natsume hummed in consent. He got up to stretch in spite of the ache persisting and accepted another glass of water when Mikan returned.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"Because you're not there."

"Stop being a kid and get back to bed."

"Sure, mom."

Naturally as he almost got back to bed, he expected her to leave the room but when he heard Mikan mutter furiously to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing!" The swift reply made him do nothing more than turn around and arch an eyebrow at her even though standing was a pain to his body. His eyes travelled to her and he noticed she was shifting her weight from one feet to another and constantly fiddling with her fingers.

"Did something go wrong, Mikan?"

"Uh. . .umm. So well I had this thing to tell you."

"Okay?"

"I don't know how to though."

"Did you steal?"

"What- no!"

"Did you murder someone and you want me to cover it up? Was it someone of importance? A politician or a businessman?"

"What? Hyuuga, no. Good lord. If I murdered someone right now I'd probably have the courage to turn myself in."

"The line of difference between courage and stupidity is extremely blurry I admit." He shrugged.

"Shut up."

"However," Natsume continued, "I hope you know that regardless of what crime you commit, the Japanese police won't be able to take you in even if you confess and voluntarily wish to go to jail."

"Why?"

"Because you're my wife. And they'd know better than to touch anyone who I keep by my side."

"Am I by your side?" She asked.

"I don't know. Are you?" He returned.

Mikan took a sharp intake of breath. "What I wanted to say, Natsume, was I'd like to start over again with you."

It took Natsume a mental countdown to three, decisive thinking and control over his body to not choke on the oxygen he was breathing in. "I beg your pardon?"

"See, I know I've been pretty unreasonable and excessively petty-"

"Oh you have no clue." Natsume scoffed.

"Moving on," Mikan stressed, crossing her arms. "You've been just as annoying. But I think we both can become mutual acquaintances if we aren't at each other's throat every now and then."

"You want to give us another chance to behave like civil adults?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" Natsume questioned, meeting her gaze with nothing less bare than his eyes. They held consequence in a way that warned her.

Regardless, Mikan heaved a deep breath, "yes."

"Alright. It's fine by me."

"Yeah." Mikan said, before smiling brightly at him to which his eyes turned slightly wide. She raised her hand in offering. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced before, I'm Mikan Sakura Yukihira, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Natsume Ioron Hyuuga, the pleasure is all mine." He shook her hand lightly and they withdrew awkwardly.

"You should go back to bed though."

"I should." Natsume nodded, showing no attempt to do so. She rolled her eyes, "which means you will." Mikan turned him around and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him to the bed. It would take a long time for both Mikan and Natsume to realize and question exactly how did they know each other the way they did.

Through touch and not words.

But for now they were oblivious.

"Exactly how long did the doctor ask me to stay in bed?"

It was technically supposed to be two days but seeing the kind of a stubborn mule Natsume was Mikan decided to be fairly reasonable.

"Four days."

"Excuse me? I have work to do, I'm a successful crime boss and a hotelier."

"Well, you should've thought that before you stressed yourself out. Also, the world wouldn't melt at your absence, milord."

"You'd be surprised."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she walked out. "Good night, I'll be sleeping on the couch if you need anything."

"Good night."

Natsume dropped himself on the pillow. Four days? Right I could have a turn over of five million if I wasn't sick.

However, when he really thought about it, he'd rather have today as it was than any other possible way.

Falling asleep he realized how tired his body was and the faint taste of chicken soup remaining in a distant part of him memory and he could finally pinpoint what it reminded him of.

Home. It reminded him of home.

I might not be able to post next week.