Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice and the image aren't mine. The image is from Lindsay Jardine's pinterest "Fotografia", pinned from 7ussam's tumblr and wangxu3192's flickr... either way, the image isn't mine.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your reviews!

Chapter 13: Aphrodisiac

"YOUICHI! Youichi, where are you? If you're hiding from us, you can come out now, because this isn't funny—"

"Calm down." A hand rested casually on her shoulder for the briefest moment before pulling away. "You're making a scene."

Mikan flushed at his touch. After their kiss last night, she couldn't look at him, couldn't be around him without blushing so heavily that his eyes looked a muted brown next to her flaming cheeks. It was her first kiss, after all, and she couldn't help but replay the memory in her mind again every time she so much as glanced at him. He was affecting her so much that it physically pained her to see him acting like it never happened. Being inexperienced in the arena of romance, she didn't really know what was supposed to happen after a kiss—maybe a confession of undying love (that was impossible; this was Natsume, after all) or even just a talk about where they'd go from there—but she was certain that it wasn't ignoring each other unless absolutely necessary.

Then again, it was possible that he was ignoring her because they'd both been thoroughly embarrassed when they were caught last night...

His kiss was gentle at first, as if testing to see if she would push him away. When she didn't, he pulled her closer, and her arms went from resting on his chest to circling around his neck. He deepened the kiss and this time she responded with equal fervour—

"Mikan! Nobara ne—oh, my."

She started at the sound of Maho's voice and hastily pushed him away, blushing when she saw the elderly lady standing by the door. Mikan gulped self-consciously and smoothed down the front of her blouse.

"What are you doing here, Maho?" she heard him say beside her, his face a mask.

"Sir, I—one of the maids is in need of Mikan's help and... and your mother wants to see you in—"

"Next time, Maho, I would really appreciate it if you knocked." There was a steely edge to his voice.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, I wasn't aware that you were here and that—"

"Where is she?"

"Sir?"

"My mother."

"She just arrived, and she's in the drawing room—"

He was already out the door before she finished speaking, without as much as a backward glance at Mikan.

She ignored the twinge of pain in her heart, and she rubbed her face in hopes of lessening the blush on it.

"Oh, Mikan," Maho whispered, watching her as she slowly lifted her guilty eyes to meet hers, radiating so much innocence that she seemed ethereal, like an angel from heaven. She shuffled up to her and enveloped her in a hug. "Oh, Mikan. Please don't fall in love with him. He'll only break you..."

The elder woman had been right, of course. Right now his silence, his indifference, was slowly breaking her already.

"We'll have to split up to find him," Natsume suggested evenly, not looking at her. He hadn't even called her Polka once that day, and she was starting to miss it, no matter how perverted it was. "Youichi's drawn to figurines and shiny objects, so I'm going to check out the figurine displays over there. You can check out the jewellery stalls here."

She nodded once, not trusting herself to speak.

"I'll meet you back here in thirty minutes, whether or not we find him. Agreed?"

She forced herself to look up at his emotionless eyes. Why does he have to be so painfully handsome? Even in a ratty coat, he stood out with the way he conducted himself—he walked around the streets like he was royalty, and she didn't miss the stares and simpers he drew from females of every age. "Agreed," she managed to say.

He turned around and shoved his way through the noisy crowd. Mikan stared at his strong, broad back wistfully, allowing herself a few moments of self-pity before refocusing her mind on the task at hand. Really, a young child under her care was missing and all she could think about was some silly unrequited love! What if he had been kidnapped and held ransom? What if he got trampled in the crowd? Oh, she really shouldn't have left him to stare at the baker's cake for the week... Granted, it was only for a few moments, but she should've known Youichi would try to get away from her given an opportunity...

She approached the first jewellery stall, one she remembered passing by with Youichi earlier that day. "Excuse me, Aunty," she said politely at the plump woman, who promptly turned to look at her, "have you seen a little boy, about this height, with platinum-blond hair?"

The woman shook her head. "Sorry, luv. I've seen too many li'l tykes today. Can't remember any one."

"Oh. Thank you, anyway."

She went to eight other stalls, receiving the same blank looks and distracted answers, before huffing and plopping down on a rickety bench, exhausted. She'd never find Youichi at this rate.

"Hello there, miss!"

Startled at the voice, Mikan looked around, wondering if she was the one being addressed.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, girl-in-pink."

Her gaze finally landed on the grinning blond man in the stall beside her. "Might I interest you in some of my—"

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested. I'm looking for a little, boy, though—"

"—with grayish eyes, silver hair, and about this height?" he gestured, still grinning.

Mikan's pulse raced, hopeful. "So you've seen him? Where did he go? Did he get himself into any trouble?"

"Whoa, whoa," he chuckled. "I just heard you repeating that to nearly every vendor here. Sorry, but I haven't seen him."

"Oh." Her face fell. "Well, thank you anyway. I'll be off then—"

"Wait a second, miss. You might be interested in my products..."

Mikan briefly eyed the shiny little bottles lined up on his table and firmly shook her head. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

"These aren't what they seem!" he said in a rush. "They contain aphrodisiacs—'love potions', as they're more commonly known among girls your age, although that term isn't really accurate."

She stopped in her tracks. She'd heard of these "love potions", all right, but she never believed them to be effective. Right now, though, she thought of Natsume, and she felt desperate enough to listen to some bogus sales talk, as long as it'll feed her some hope.

"Ah," said the man—no, he couldn't be a man yet; he seemed only a little older than she was—with a knowing smile that sent goose bumps up her arms. It was almost as if he was reading her mind when he added, "A pretty girl like yourself shouldn't be suffering from unrequited love. A bottle of this, though, can easily remedy that."

Mikan slowly turned to him, her treacherous heart beckoning her closer to the colourful little glass vials filled with innocuous-looking liquid. "How do I know that that stuff really works?"

"Why, miss, these bottles are filled with the finest aphrodisiacs from all over the world! These contain the very essence of special spices from China, choice nuts from the Mediterranean, and the finest cacao extracts from Africa. I have numerous customers who can attest to its effectiveness. Oh, you don't believe me? Here, take a whiff." He unscrewed the top of a red bottle and presented it to her. "Just one whiff, mind you—it's very potent—"

Mikan took a tentative sniff. The sweet, heady aroma immediately invaded her senses. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and down to the nether regions of her body, and her knees nearly bucked beneath her from the desire that suddenly coursed through her veins. She reached out to hold onto the strange man's arm to steady herself. "How much?" she gasped.

He replaced the cap of the bottle with a smug grin. "Three thousand yen," he said.

Mikan's eyes bulged out of their sockets. That was more than she'd be earning for this week! It was unreasonable. Besides, what if it didn't work? Her money would've gone to waste, and she still didn't have Natsume's attention. What in the world was she thinking, anyway, pinning her hopes on a silly love potion?

She schooled her expression into one of bland disinterest. "That's quite an unreasonable price, sir. I'm not spending my money on something I'm fully convinced will work. Well, I'll be on my way now."

"Not fully convinced?" he said disbelievingly, rooting her in place by grabbing her upper arm. His grip was not aggressive, but it still made her uncomfortable. "Miss, you saw what a single whiff of it could do!"

"Yes, but if I plan to slip it in someone's drink, the smell would immediately tip him off and make him suspicious. Now, please let me go—"

"Oh, so you really do have someone in mind," he smiled. "Well, I have odorless, colorless ones. They're not as potent as this, I'll be honest with you, but they're nearly just as efficient."

"I really have to go—"

"I'll give it to you for a thousand yen."

Mikan thought of Natsume again.

Stupid, stupid! Stop thinking of him! She shook her head violently to clear her thoughts, telling herself that this love potion wouldn't work on him anyway. "Sir, if you don't let go of me now—"

"I don't like selling love at such a low price, but fine—five hundred yen." He let go of her arm. "Only for you, miss."

Mikan hesitated. Right now, she had three hundred yen in her pocket. If she could get him to give it to her for three hundred yen...

But would it really be worth it? Would she really place three hundred yen on the line for a chance to get Natsume to notice her again?

"How long will it last?" she asked, her resolve crumbling.

"My cheapest ones last for a few hours, about three to four at most. Buuut there's a wonderful side effect: if your man truly has feelings for you, even just a little bit, he will constantly be aware of his attraction to you even if the effects of the aphrodisiac fade. It depends on him if he will acknowledge it or ignore it."

"But what if... what if he doesn't have any feelings for me?"

He flashed her an eerie Cheshire cat grin. "Oh, I'm positive he does."

Mikan thought about it for awhile, and then finally surrendered to her heart. She was normally very prudent, but lately she was making some rash decisions, all because of... Well, she couldn't really call it love, but it was pretty darn close. "Three hundred yen," she haggled.

"Are you kidding? That's—"

"That's all I have," she explained, emptying her pockets. "Either that or I walk away right now."

He pursed his lips in thought, and after a few moments, he sighed. "Alright, three hundred yen. How could I refuse such a pretty woman?"

-o-O-o-O-o-

When she finally met up with Natsume again, she felt ridiculously high on hope. That and relief that his search hadn't been as futile as hers—he was carrying Youichi on his back now, who was clutching a figurine of a dragon, sleeping quite soundly.

"Thank goodness he's safe," she exclaimed. "Are you tired of carrying him? I can—"

He shook his head once. "I'll handle it."

Her heart clenched painfully again at his callousness, and she couldn't help but finger the aphrodisiac through the pocket of her satchel bag for some comfort. All she had to do now was to get him alone and slip it in his drink or his food, and...

"Oi, Natsume!"

They both turned around—Mikan did so on instinct, even if it wasn't her name that was called—and saw Ruka waving at them a meter or so away. He shoved through the crowd to get to them, Hotaru following the path he paved behind him. "What a surprise to see you here."

Natsume's face twisted into a sneer. "I could say the same to the two of you."

"Hotaru!" Mikan squeaked, attempting to hug her friend and failing yet again. It was probably a ritual greeting of theirs, the two boys noted wryly. After Mikan righted herself again a mere second later, she added, "You and Nogi-san are becoming very close friends, ne?"

The two froze. Natsume caught Mikan's eye and smirked, and her heart fluttered at his acknowledgement.

Hotaru was the first to recover. "Well, yes, actually. He's buying me lunch today. Care to join us?"

Ruka gaped at her and was about to protest when she elbowed him hard in the ribs, muttering something low enough for only him to hear. He promptly shut his mouth and forced a smile. "Yes, why not?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interrupt a lunch between close friends," Natsume taunted, enjoying the flustered look on his friend's face. Man, he didn't know what Imai did to him to have him all wrapped up around her little pinky, but Ruka sure was whipped.

"You won't be interrupting anything, I assure you," Hotaru replied icily. "Besides, it's Nogi's treat."

"I didn't say any—"

She glared at him once, the threat clear in her eyes. He shut up again. "Yeah," he said weakly, "my treat. Whoopee."

-o-O-o-O-o-

Hotaru's restaurant of choice was a quaint little seafood place in the more deserted, upscale part of town. It wasn't the most expensive, but the prices on the menu were high enough to send Mikan hyperventilating, so she had ordered the cheapest item on the menu—aside from the bottled water, of course.

After the others had finished ordering, an awkward silence fell over them. Well, it was awkward mostly because Mikan and Ruka tried to fill the silence in with small talk that quickly died, while Natsume and Hotaru were glaring daggers at each other.

Finally, while Ruka was in the middle of talking about his pet rabbit, Natsume spoke. "Imai. We need to talk."

Dead silence. Hotaru met his steely gaze with her own. "Well, go on, Hyuuga. Talk."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Alone."

Something passed between the two that both Ruka and Mikan missed, and suddenly they were both standing. "Outside," Natsume said shortly to her. To them, he said, "Excuse us. This will only take a few minutes."

When they left, Ruka and Mikan both looked at each other. "What just happened there?" she asked.

He shrugged. "No idea. But I can't say it's not normal; they've always had this weird connection going on."

Mikan's heart clenched. "You mean, they like each other?"

Ruka stared at her like her skin turned green. "Are you kidding? They can't stand each other. They dislike each other, and that's on good days."

"But... you said they had a connection..."

He laughed. "I meant that sometimes it seems like they're doing telepathy. Imai called me an idiot after I told her that, and she said that only idiots like myself are incapable of knowing what a person wants to say by reading their facial expressions." He rolled his eyes.

Mikan giggled, feeling a lot better. "She told me that too! You know, Nogi-san, you seem to be hanging out with Hotaru a lot nowadays."

He flushed. "W-well... I kind of need to... business-related stuff, you know. Besides, she usually blackmails me into it."

She gave him a sly smile. It was so out-of-place on her angelic face that it looked almost comical. "You're blushing."

"I am not!"

"You're in denial."

"I am—" he stopped himself before he added the not, his blush deepening. "I am, uh, in great need to use the comfort room. Excuse me for awhile, Mikan."

That smile of hers never slipped off her face. "Of course."

Once he was gone, the waiter came to serve the clear crab soup. It was the restaurant's specialty, so Hotaru had ordered one for each of them. Mikan thanked him before he left.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, placing a hand over her pounding heart to calm it. This is my chance. She glanced around to make sure no one was looking and checked on Youichi to make sure he was still fast asleep. Then, she took the aphrodisiac out and swiftly poured its contents into Natsume's soup, taking great care not to disturb the croutons and parsley garnished on it.

Please, please work, she thought to herself, hastily keeping the little bottle again in her satchel. She plastered on an innocent smile when Ruka returned, and tried not to look too guilty when Natsume slid in next to her moments later.

"Hotaru, is everything all right?" she asked.

"Of course," her friend replied curtly before digging in her crab soup once she laid eyes on it. She remained poised, but Mikan knew that if she had been alone, Hotaru would've gulped it down straight from the bowl. She grinned at this.

Her amusement was short-lived, though, when Natsume didn't even touch his soup. She wasn't the only one to notice.

"Hey, Natsume, don't you like the soup?" Ruka asked. At Natsume's raised brow, his eyes widened in comprehension. "Oh, right. I forgot you're allergic to crabs. Well, I hope you don't mind if—"

"—I take it from you," Hotaru cut in, pushing her empty bowl aside and pulling Natsume's towards her.

Mikan felt her throat close up. No, no, no! Hotaru mustn't drink that! The vendor's parting words to her were suddenly reverberating in her mind—use it wisely. Oh dear... "Hotaru-chan, that's very greedy of you," her voice came out an octave higher than usual. "You've already finished one bowl!"

"I'm not greedy," she said, popping a crouton in her mouth. "It's a waste of money to just leave it here, so I'll finish it myself."

"You could share it, you know," Ruka mumbled crossly.

"Yeah, Hotaru," Mikan piped in. "Don't be so selfish."

"I'll let you have some when you finish your own soups," she allowed, bringing a spoonful of it to her mouth.

No, this couldn't be happening. She had to stop her friend—who knows what the aphrodisiac would do to her? The vendor couldn't warn her enough about the potency of this aphrodisiac—after taking it, the person would immediately be attracted to any member of the opposite sex, so it was dangerous if he or she wasn't alone—oh, what if Hotaru fell in love with Natsume and Ruka at the same time and... and... Ah, forget it. There were just too many possibilities of what Hotaru could do after taking the aphrodisiac, none of which Mikan could think about without blushing.

The bottom line was, this was going to be disastrous.

With that line of thinking, Mikan leaned over to knock the spoon out of Hotaru's hand, but she was a split-second too late—Hotaru had already swallowed her first spoonful.

Mikan's hand hovered awkwardly over Hotaru's lips, and her friend narrowed her eyes at her. "Mikan, what in the world are you doing?"

Mikan waited one second, and then two, before breathing an internal sigh of relief. The vendor said it'd take a few seconds to take effect—a few seconds came and went and so far nothing was happening. She wasn't sure if she was happy or angry that it didn't work. "Er, sorry, Hotaru-chan," she said sheepishly, sitting back down again, uncomfortable at the three pairs of eyes staring at her. She cleared her throat. "I thought—I thought there was a bug on your, um, nose."

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "I think I would've felt it by now, Mikan." She sipped the soup again, and again, and still nothing happened. Mikan breathed more easily.

"Sorry, Hotaru-chan," she repeated.

"Idiot," she said under her breath, and Mikan knew she was forgiven.

A few minutes later, halfway through her soup, Hotaru suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. She tugged on the collar of her blouse and frowned, wondering if the air-conditioning had broken down.

"Feeling all right, Imai?"

Hotaru nearly dropped her spoon at the violent, delightful goose bumps that travelled up her arms at the sound of that voice—

Wait, what? That was Nogi's voice, for goodness' sakes. His voice was deep, yes, but so were the voices of most guys his age. It was normal, and she wasn't the type of girl to swoon over the "rich baritones" or the "husky basses" of men. That was so nauseatingly pathetic.

"Just peachy," she deadpanned at him, tugging at her collar again and focusing on her soup.

"Are you sure, Hotaru-chan?" Mikan asked, eyes wide with concern and—was that guilt?

Hotaru shook her head. She was imagining things. "I'm fine."

"Imai, you look flushed." This time even the fine hairs on her neck and back stood at Nogi's voice, and she had to repress a shudder.

"I said I'm fine," she snapped, and to get him to shut the hell up, she gave him her most withering glare.

That quickly turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Just as her eyes met his sparkling sapphire ones—no, his eyes are just blue, not sparkling sapphire, dammit—her breath caught in her throat and her heart leapt out of her chest. How could she not have noticed before the luster of his golden locks—what the hell, he has dull blond hair!—the perfect arch of his brows—effing girly eyebrows, that's what they are—the finely chiselled features of his handsome face? It was only marred by the slight frown on his lips that she very much wanted to kiss away—dammit dammit DAMMIT! What's wrong with me?

"Hotaru—" Mikan ventured, but before she could say anything else, Hotaru downed the rest of her soup in a single gulp and stood up rather abruptly.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice a little breathy and her whole face flushed, "I have to go."

"Hotaru—"

"Imai—"

Ruka, looking pissed, went after her the moment she strode away. Mikan attempted to do the same, but Natsume's hand stopped her.

"You should let them be, Polka."

He called her Polka! Her heart soared, but she tried to look as irritated as possible. "I can't! Hotaru's my friend and she could be really, um, sick—"

"Imai can handle it," he drawled, "and if not, Ruka can. Now sit down."

"No! You don't understand—eep!"

With one vicious tug, she was suddenly sprawled on his lap in a rather compromising position, and he rested his hands firmly on her waist to keep her from moving. "Natsume!" she said, blushing from the stares the waiters and other patrons in the restaurant were shooting at them, "let me go!"

His smile could only be described as predatory. She wondered vaguely if he had taken even just a sip of the soup and this was now the aphrodisiac working its magic on him. "Only if you don't go after Imai."

She puffed her cheeks out, thoroughly irritated now, and tried to push him away, but he was pretty darn strong. "I don't understand you," she mumbled, her face heating up. "You practically ignore me the whole morning and now you're—you're—"

His grip on her had slackened, but still not enough for her to wriggle herself free. He looked puzzled. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed, Polka."

"Noticed what?"

"That Imai—and Ruka, since she blackmailed him—were stalking us."

"They were?" Mikan couldn't recall seeing them in the marketplace, except for when Ruka had called out to them just before coming here. Hm, was that why Natsume pulled her friend outside to talk? To tell her to stop stalking them and torturing his best friend?

He rolled his eyes. "I saw her lurking around the stalls more times than I can count. I bet she's making sure I don't do anything fishy."

"Oh, you mean like what you're doing now?"

He smirked. "No, I mean like what I'm about to do now."

He kissed her right then in the middle of the restaurant, and she melted into him just like last night. Euphoria surged in her, making her heart swell and her blood sing. Hotaru can take care of herself, she decided, echoing Natsume's sentiments. And I'm sure Nogi-san is considerate enough to make sure nothing bad happens to her. He is a gentleman, after all...

-o-O-o-O-o-

"Imai!" Ruka scowled. He tried not to think of why he was following her like this, of why he even remotely cared for her well-being when the only good thing she had done to him was... he couldn't even think of one good thing she'd done to him. "Can you please stop walking and tell me why you're acting like a bitch?"

She didn't stop, but he heard her reply. "Because I am a bitch, Nogi. Now bug off."

He gritted his teeth. The absolute nerve of the woman! First she blackmails him (with some atrocious pictures of his pubescent days—God knows how she got them) to spy on Mikan while she stalked Natsume in the marketplace, and then she announces that they're having lunch and, oh, by the way, that he's paying for it, and thenshe storms the hell out of the restaurant without touching the ridiculously expensive food she had ordered, which, did he mention, he was paying for!

He'd had enough. To the hell with his father's plan to "make friends with Imai to get her to sell her inventions to us". He wasn't becoming her friend, not even close—he was becoming her slave. That was never part of the plan.

He overtook her in three long strides, and she crashed right into his chest. She pulled away with lightning speed, hissing like she'd just been electrocuted—which wasn't far from the truth, actually. "What the hell is your problem?" he growled at her, gripping both her arms and pulling her into an alley that branched off the main street to make sure that she couldn't escape.

"Go away, Nogi," she snarled. She showed more emotion at that moment than for the whole time he'd known her, and stunned as he was, he almost did as she said. But his pride wouldn't be abused by her any further. She had done enough damage to it, starting two weeks ago when she exploited him into doing things for her so that she'd accept their company's proposal. He'd ran errands for her and chased after lab rats for her and practically bent over backwards to please her, but there was a limit to how far back he could bend until he'd break.

Today, he had reached his breaking point.

"And if I don't?" he said, eyes burning into hers. His sneer would've made Natsume proud. "You'll blackmail me again?"

"Yes," she hissed, squirming in his grip. "Unhand me, or I will make your life hell—"

"No," he said. "Not until you explain to me why you said I was taking you out for lunch and paying for it, along with Natsume's and Mikan's. Why you just stormed off without even saying 'thank you' like a civilized person. Why you're so intent on messing with my mind and my life."

"Because," she bit out. She could hardly think with the heat eating her up from the inside and the tingles of electricity that shot through her nerves at his touch. She didn't know what was happening; all she knew was that she had no control over herself, and she didn't like it. She had to get away from him before she gave in to the strange urges her mind was whispering at her body to do.

"Because?" he prompted, and again his voice was like music to her ears, all rich baritone and husky bass rolled into one. She had stopped disputing the clichés her mind was using to describe him long ago—it was futile to fight it, whatever it was.

She forced herself to meet his eyes, wanting to be brave, but his stormy gaze sent the heat in her body rushing downwards and her breathing came out in ragged gasps—proof that Ruka Nogi was a fine specimen of a man, even more so when angry. Her hands were just itching to touch him; she wanted to lick him all over...

What. The. Efffffff.

Heaven help her.

"I'm expecting an answer, Imai," he said.

"Because," she tried again, but her brilliant mind was shutting down. That thing fighting for control—her id, her inner animal, whatever it was—was winning the war against her logical side. She couldn't piece together a coherent sentence anymore, except for one nagging one: kiss me kiss me kiss me now now NOW.

Each time she tried to resist that urge, an indescribable pain stabbed at her heart. She wanted to claw it out of her chest to ease the pain, but currently her hands were pinned against the wall, and she had no other means of reprieve.

So she did the only thing she thought logical at that moment. She strained against his hold and kissed him hard.

The electricity shooting through her was suddenly multiplied a hundredfold, nearly matching the intensity of a lightning bolt. All the little hairs on her skin stood on end in anticipation.

She pulled away, inhaling his wonderfully male scent. Sufficiently stunned and not knowing how to react, Ruka had unconsciously let go of her, and she took the opportunity to run her hands over his chest, loving the feel of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt.

"Imai," he said, his breathing becoming as ragged as hers, "w-what are you doing?"

"Shut up and kiss me," she ordered, and just like that her lips were on his again. This was becoming really twisted—she was an evil, conniving, blackmailing witch, and aside from that she probably wasn't in her right mind; her kissing him now was proof enough—but she felt so good in his arms and her kiss was so intoxicating that he succumbed to it.

Okay, so she was an evil, conniving, blackmailing witch, but that didn't mean that she was ugly. The first time he saw her months ago Natsume had to remind him to close his gaping mouth, and for the first few weeks of their acquaintance he could hardly speak to her without stuttering. Good thing she was cruel—he couldn't stutter to someone who was bullying and blackmailing him, so he got over that bad habit of his—but she was still gorgeous, and he'd go so far as to say that right now, with her lips and tongue working wonders on his, that she was the most stunning girl he'd ever met.

He pulled away from the kiss and brought his lips to her slender neck, sucking at her pulse point. Her grip on his shirt tightened. For a second there, he flinched and expected her to push him away and blackmail him into oblivion, but she only pulled him closer and whimpered. "R-Ruka..."

He stilled.

"What's the matter?" she said, her voice breathy.

Oh gods, if she talked to him like that every day, he'd gladly make himself her human lab rat for life.

"You called me Ruka," he spoke against her skin, his lips leaving a trail of fire from her neck to the shell of her ear.

"I gather you like it..."—he could hardly believe it; she was purring now—"...Ruka."

That was his ultimate undoing, and he proceeded to kiss her like he she wouldn't murder him for it tomorrow.

-o-O-o-O-o-

Mikan arrived back at the Hyuuga mansion an hour later, still flushing from her rather heated kiss with Natsume and the scene she'd seen between her best friend and Nogi-san in an alley. Natsume had been right not to worry about her, after all.

She'd done her duties as the rest of the day progressed, chasing Youichi around the house when it was time for his bath and helping Nobara, the shy kitchen maid she'd become quite attached to, prepare the picky boy's meal. It took her an hour to finish feeding him, the stubborn inquisitive brat, and another to tuck him in, because he didn't like any of the bedtime stories she'd picked out. By the time she retired to her quarters, she was so exhausted that she just collapsed on her bed...

...and promptly howled when her back hit something hard.

Scowling, she reached out under her and pulled the offending object out. It was a hard-bound book, obviously new from the texture and smell of the pages. On its front cover, the words "Shakespeare's Sonnets" were embossed in gold, and under that was a small, yellow post-it note. There was something written on it in an unfamiliar hand.

Polka—
I saw this at the bookstore today and thought that you might like it.