Narumi's office had a strange smell to it. It reeked of perfume and chocolates, both of which Natsume wasn't very fond of. It was one of the countless reasons why Natsume hated being sent to Narumi's office.

"So, Natsume," the hateful professor said in a cheerful tone, "I see that the tutoring lessons are paying off. You are now passing with a C-. It isn't much, but you can't change your mark much in just a few weeks."

Natsume gave no reply. He just wanted to get out of this stupid office as soon as possible.

"But your artwork has definitely developed!" chimed Narumi in a sing-song voice. "I am so grateful that I don't have to look at your former garbage anymore."

Natsume frowned at him, peeved. It was true that his art skills had improved a great deal, but that didn't give Narumi an excuse to make fun of him.

Narumi gave Natsume a sly smile. "So," he said, "how are things going with Mikan?"

Natsume gave him a dead panned look. "Teachers aren't supposed to meddle in student affairs," he said calmly.

"I'm not meddling, I'm asking."

He glared at the blonde man. Reluctantly, he said, "We're getting along."

Narumi laughed. "Yes, I know that. But I'm asking about the romance." He leaned in, staring into Natsume's crimson eyes. "Are you interested in her?"

Natsume bristled. "No," he lied. "Who would like that girl anyway?"

He heard Narumi laugh.

"Okay, Natsume-dear, you don't have to tell me about your love life," said Narumi, still shaking from laughter.

"Just shut the hell up."

Natsume rose from his seat. He headed to the door, hands in his pockets, scowl on his face.

"I'm not quite done yet," Narumi said from behind him.

Natsume didn't stop. "Well, I am."

"Mikan's been happier lately than I've ever seen her." Narumi spoke in a soft tone. Natsume halted at 'Mikan'. "She actually smiles now." He gave Natsume a big smile of his own. "And I know it's because of you."

Narumi let these words sink into Natsume before saying, "Now I'm done."

Natsume left, not caring if Narumi was truly done talking.

What was that supposed to mean? Natsume never knew that Mikan never smiled before they became friends. Was she really that miserable? He thought back to how she hung her head whenever she was in a crowd. Even when only a few strangers passed by, her eyes were glued to the floor, as if she was walking on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

His thoughts traveled back to when Mikan first came to his apartment. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. Was that it? Was Mikan poor?

That's a good possibility, Natsume thought. It would explain why she always wore those hand-me-down rags she called clothes. Natsume had never even talked to someone who wore such worn-out clothing.

But that didn't explain why he caught her crying a few weeks ago. Mikan's mournful expression filled Natsume's mind. He shook his head clear of it. If it could be helped, he never wanted to see Mikan cry like that again. Ever.

He looked at his watch. "Almost 7:30," he muttered under his breath.

Natsume found his legs carrying him towards the art room (he was already in the building). Since it was almost eight o'clock and he was almost there anyways, Natsume thought he might as well wait until Mikan showed up.

I don't feel like walking all the way to my apartment just to come back here again, he told himself inwardly.

Natsume opened the door and shut it inaudibly. He turned around and froze.

There, standing in front of him, was Mikan. Her hair was down. Natsume's heart skipped when he took in her beautiful brown locks curling ever so slightly, almost falling to her waist. Her glasses were laying on the table behind her, placed carelessly.

Natsume finally became aware of the easel behind her. It looked as if she was painting a picture of fields.

The golden grass looked as if it was actually moving in the same breeze that rustled the trees' branches, causing a few scattered leaves to drift to the ground. There were barely any clouds in Mikan's sky, just a gusty mist that embraced the canvas.

This painting wasn't like the one Shouda had painted. If anything, it could have been the opposite. Everything that was wrong and artificial in Shouda's painting was natural and just so damn right in Mikan's.

Natsume now knew why Mikan was Narumi's best student. Even someone as dense in art as him could see it.

It was then that Natsume saw Mikan tremble. Her entire frame shook violently.

She must be crying again, he thought with concern. Natsume, about to comfort her, stopped mid-step when she raised her right arm and slashed at her painting.

If Natsume did not have so much control over his body, he would have stumbled and made a noise of some sort that would have given him away.

Only when he silently moved to a better view-point did he notice that Mikan hadn't even touched the painting. Instead, it was the paintbrush in her hand that had taken the hit. And on the once peaceful setting was a great large streak of gray; it took all the tranquility out of Mikan's painting.

But more followed. Before long, the entire center of the painting was covered by a large whirl that flowed upwards until it touched the sky. Mikan then selected a different brush and put more gray-black paint on it. She covered the sky with dark, stormy clouds, that crackled viciously in its attempt to escape the borders of the picture.

Mikan had created a hurricane. A destructive one.

Realization finally dawned on Natsume. She wasn't crying. She wasn't even sad. Mikan was furious.

She darkened the golden grass, dimming the painting completely. With a final swoop of her arm, she splattered dark green paint onto the hurricane, representing the disgruntled leaves from the now agitated trees.

Mikan slammed down her tools lividly. She stood still, her hands clutched into fists.

When Natsume saw that she was still trembling from anger, he rushed forward and hugged her from behind, startling her.

Mikan stared at him with large eyes. "Natsume, what-"

"You don't have to tell me why you're so angry," Natsume interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper. He held her tighter. "Just let me hold you."

She paused. Finally, Mikan let out a small, shaky sigh. She turned around, still encircled in Natsume's arms, and rested her head on the crook of his neck. She returned his embrace, squeezing him as if her life depended on it.

Nearly several minutes passed before the two slowly released each other.

Mikan kept her gaze downwards when she said, "I guess we'll pick up acrylic painting again today," she said softly.

Natsume was about to consent, when a better idea popped into his brilliant mind.

He grabbed her hand and headed towards the door, throwing her coat that he found crumpled on a desk nearby.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Mikan, trying to get out of his hold.

Natsume gripped her hand tighter to prevent her escape. "It's called skipping," he replied casually. "You should try it sometime."

"But we have a lesson and-"

"And it's Friday," disrupted Natsume. "That means it's movie night, remember?"

Every Friday since that first night, Mikan and Natsume had gone over to his place to watch movies from Koko's collection. It had become a sort of custom between the two.

Mikan continued to protest. He turned to look her in the eye and say, "Mikan, you're clearly not in the mood to do a lesson. Besides, it's not like I haven't gotten better at art."

"But Natsume, skipping isn't right! We'll get in trouble," she warned. God, she was stubborn.

"One night, Mikan," he tried again, "That's it."

After a series of conflicted emotions took over Mikan, she at last groaned and mumbled a nearly incoherent, "Fine…"

Grinning at getting his way (Mikan usually doesn't let him do what he wants), Natsume continued to walk out of the building and into his apartment, Mikan trailing along behind him.

Natsume motioned for Mikan to pick a movie and they began their usual routine: he made the popcorn, she chose the movie (the first one, anyways) and got the blanket. Natsume hated it when she got cold, which was pretty much all the time.

He settled himself on the couch, munching on popcorn. After Mikan set up the movie, she sat beside him and began devouring the popcorn.

"What did you pick this time?" asked Natsume.

Mikan often chose family-friendly movies that made her laugh or ones like Just Go With It, which Natsume only watched to please her. Today she chose The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Natsume raised his brow at her inquisitively.

"I just feel like a Disney movie, okay?" Mikan replied defensively.

He shrugged, willing himself not to roll his eyes at her childishness.

As the movie played on, Natsume found himself laying on his back. His arms were wrapped around Mikan affectionately, her head positioned on his chest comfortably. Once the movie was over, Natsume looked at Mikan's teary-eyed face.

"Is there a movie that you won't cry at?" he drawled, earning himself a slap on the arm.

"Shut up," Mikan bit out. "At least I have a heart."

Natsume grumbled something under his breath.

"I didn't like that movie," she stated unexpectedly.

Natsume raised an inquisitive brow. "And why is that?"

Mikan shrugged. "I just don't like movies with unrequited love." She opened her mouth and blew her bangs out of her face. "I don't particularly like unrequited love, either."

Natsume gestured for her to carry on.

"Well," she said, "it's just really sad when you love someone so much and no matter how hard you try to win their-uh-affection, they will never love you back." Mikan glared at the credits playing on the screen of the TV. "It's even sadder when it could be just because your ugly."

Natsume gave a small smile and hugged her closer to himself.

He looked at the clock and found that they had plenty of time for another movie. Smirking, he sat up, brining Mikan with him, and got off the couch. He went through Koko's movie collection and found just what he was looking for.

Grinning maliciously, he popped the movie into the DVD set and sauntered over to Mikan-after turning off the lights, of course.

He crouched in front of her and smirked. "My turn. And I'm pretty sure you'll love my…pick."

Natsume's grin widened when she stared at him in horror.

"No, Natsume! We've already watched scary movies and you already know how much I hate them!" Mikan argued.

She tried to move off of the couch, but Natsume was much faster. He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat next to her, leaning back contentedly.

The movie started with a eerie, old woman lurking about as a small boy slept peacefully, ignorant of her presence.

It was at that moment that Mikan shoved her face against Natsume's chest, her arms clenching his now wrinkled shirt.

Natsume smiled. Oh, how he loved this movie. We'll have to watch this movie with her more often, he thought sinisterly. He watched happily as Insidious played on, and the deeper they got into the movie, the tighter Mikan pressed herself against him. And he held her.

The ending made itself known when hundreds of violins blared consistently, making frightening, bone-chilling chords.

Natsume grabbed the remote and tuned off the T.V. Darkness enveloped them as silence ensued.

Natsume, thinking that Mikan had fallen asleep, look down to push her hair out of her face. Instead, he cam face-to-face with wide eyes and a jaw-dropped mouth.

Natsume chuckled at Mikan's terrified expression. Immediately, she reached over and whacked him on the head.

"Why would you make me watch that!" she asked furiously.

Natsume's chest rumbled with silent laughter. Only Mikan could make him laugh like this.

"It wasn't even that scary," he said, still snickering. It took him a few moments to recoup himself.

"Yes it was!" argued Mikan. She hid her face in his chest. "I'll have nightmares for weeks. Now I'll never be able to go home!"

Natsume stopped. Hesitantly, he used his hand to gently lift her face and looked into her deep, brown eyes.

"Then don't."

He inwardly laughed when Mikan's eyes widened noticeably. Blushing, she slowly lay her head in the crook of his neck. "Okay," she whispered.

Natsume smiled triumphantly, wrapping his arms around her small body. He observed how small Mikan was and reveled in her touch. This was pure bliss.

He was definitely going to remember this night.

"Beep…Beep…Beep…"

Natsume groaned. His arm lashed out in attempt to shut off the annoying alarm clock. Instead of an alarm clock, however, his hand came in contact with a face.

"Ouch!" yelped a voice. It was annoying and all-too familiar…

"Koko!" Natsume yelled, angry for having been woken up on a Saturday.

He something jump, startled, then groan and bury itself even closer to him. Mikan, he thought.

Instantly, he removed his hand from Koko's now red face and returned to Mikan's slim waist. Natsume opened his crimson eyes and found that Mikan was now fully on top of him, but she wasn't heavy at all. She actually made a very good blanket.

Mikan's never sleeping at her place again, Natsume decided absentmindedly, holding her tightly.

"What are you still doing here, Koko?" asked Natsume, angry that he was still watching them.

He didn't have to open his eyes to see that Koko was grinning mischievously. "Just watching the show." Natsume heard him crouch down and say, "Carry on. Don't mind me."

Before Koko could spout any other meaningless crap from his mouth, Natsume growled loudly and hit him on the back of the head. The stupid blonde-haired boy protested and walked away, put out from not being able to 'watch the show.'

Sick bastard.

Yawning, Natsume blinked drearily and scratched his head with the same arm he used to beat Koko. He snuck a peek at Mikan's sleeping face. His peek became a stare.

Natsume had never seen her face so…peaceful. Of all the times he had been with her, Mikan's face remained guarded. There were times when she seemed to forget herself and express her feelings more, but even those times were rare and short-except when watching movies. But now Mikan looked so calm and serene, so happy to just be by Natsume.

He lifted his hand and gently caressed her smooth face. Her skin is so soft, Natsume thought, How in the hell did she sleep through that? Natsume wondered about Koko's creeping. That boy needed a hobby…a healthy one.

Natsume sighed. He realized that he couldn't fall back asleep. After adjusting himself and Mikan a little, he spent the next hour or so watching her sleep.

He would also have to beat Koko up again. Really, that boy would never learn.

"Get off of me, Shouda," said Natsume coldly as he shook the green-haired pest off his arm.

"Oh, lighten up, Natsume," Sumire chirped, smiling. "It's not everyday that I get to walk with you around campus."

"Only because I threaten to burn you every other time."

Sumire ignore this and continued to chat about the latest trends in hairstyles and other topics that Natsume couldn't care less about.

When he heard the word 'thong,' he decided to end the conversation, however one-sided it was. "I don't give a rat's ass. Now stay away from me, or you'll really wish that you weren't so obsessive."

Natsume walked away from Sumire, who looked as if she was about to cry-oh, no she was already doing that. Oh well.

As he was trying to distance himself from said crybaby, his eye caught a brunette in the middle of the crowd. Ignoring the squeals and up-downs of girls around him, Natsume caught up with Mikan and grabbed her hand.

Mikan squeaked in surprise. "Oh, Natsume, it's just you," she breathed. No amount of guarding could mask the evident relief in her voice.

"Who were you expecting?" inquired Natsume.

Mikan just shook her head in reply.

Apparently, she had figured out to stop asking him about his intentions. Mikan allowed him lead her all the way to the cafeteria, following dutifully behind. It wasn't until they both sat down at an empty table that Natsume noticed her looking at the ground even more than normal.

"What's the matter?" he asked. Was she embarrassed to be seen with him in public? That couldn't be it. Maybe she was just uncomfortable.

"Nothing," mumbled Mikan. Her head sank even lower.

She may be good at hiding her emotions when she wanted to, but lying clearly wasn't her strong suit.

"Tell me now, or I'll rip off your stupid skirt," threatened Natsume. It was an ugly skirt anyway.

Alarmed, Mikan glanced at him. "Uh…W-well," she faltered, "You see, I was walking…up some stairs when I fell. Yeah, and it was pretty bad-"

He reached over and, without delay, tilted her head up to face him.

Mikan's face was bruised. It had a greenish-blue tinge that spread over the right side of her cheek, marring her beauty.

Natsume's voice was low and vicious, "Who did this?'

Her voice was small and it shaky when she finally answered, "No one. I fell. Down some stairs."

"Tell me, Mikan. Now'

He could tell that she was embarrassed from the attention that they were drawing. But he didn't care, not the slightest bit.

She looked everywhere, avoiding his eyes. Licking her lips, Mikan reluctantly said, "I was embarrassed for tripping and being so clumsy. I knew that you'd think that somebody hurt me or something, so I tried to hide it. I guess it didn't work, huh?" She smiled dryly.

This didn't satisfy Natsume. He needed to know if someone was hurting her, and who. It could be one of those ditzy bitches who attended Alice, he thought angrily.

Mikan seemed to know that her whole 'I fell down the stairs' act didn't fool him. She sighed and went on. "Natsume, I know it's hard to believe but it's true. I fell down the stairs at my building because I was late for psychology." She took in a shaky breath. "Believe me… Please."

Natsume didn't know if it was the way her hands felt on his chest or the way her wide eyes looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered-and damn him if he said that he didn't love that feeling. Nonetheless, there was something about her that made him give in, and that was a rare thing indeed.

"Fine," he said finally, "but if this happens again I will find out, because you will tell me." His tone was strict and hard, as if talking to a small child.

And, like a child, Mikan guiltily dropped her head and nodded slowly.

"Good."

Natsume looked around and saw just how many people were staring at them; some in confusion, some in horror (fan girls), and a surprising amount looked at them in awe, as if they were the cutest thing in the world. They kept staring until Natsume emitted a low growl from his chest and glared at them.

"You know, Mikan," he bit out, trying not to sound soft, but knew he was failing anyway. "You can trust me. I mean…ah…" Natsume was no good at this. He didn't even know what stupid force had persuaded him to start in the first place. Natsume took in a gulp of air and tried again. "What I mean is, you don't need to take everything by yourself. If you ever…If you ever need anything, even if it's just an unhealthy amount of ice cream-because I know how much you like that-you can come to me."

It wasn't until now that Natsume realized just how sappy and revolting he sounded. Hastily, he added, "Just so you know."

Natsume was avoiding eye contact with Mikan the entire time he was talking. He waited for her to burst out in a fit of giggles. Cautiously, he snuck a peak at her face.

Mikan looked like the wind had been punched out of her gut and shoved right back down her throat and into her lungs. Her caramel-coloured eyes were wide and teary. She was breathing heavily, so heavily, in fact, that it worried Natsume.

He leaned across the table. Lightly, he placed his hand on hers and said, "Mikan, are you okay?"

After blinking away her tears, Mikan nodded vigorously. She let out a stifled laugh and grasp Natsume's shoulders, embracing him.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly. "Thank you so much."

Not knowing what to do, Natsume awkwardly rubbed her back and closed his eyes.

"She is so lucky.."

"…Adorable!"

"Oh, God, I'm so jealous."

"Since when was Natsume Hyuuga such a softy?"

Those damn eavesdroppers.

Without another word, Natsume detached himself from Mikan and, ignoring her confused expression, picked her up off the bench. He set her down and said, "We're eating at my place."

Mikan nodded in understanding.

And so, the now-famed couple (though both of them were unaware of this) made their way to Natsume's apartment, Mikan ignoring the admiring/jealous looks she was receiving from girls, and Natsume scowling at every single damn one of them.

Natsume was having a 'bonding day,' as Koko called it, with Ruka and, of course, Koko. That boy wouldn't let him and Ruka go anywhere without him. The afternoon started off normal enough, with Ruka and Koko chatting away about mundane things as Natsume added a few side comments. It was when they grabbed burgers at a nearby MacDonald's restaurant that Koko popped the question.

"So what's this about a girlfriend?" his annoying voice chirped happily. He ignored Ruka elbowing him in the stomach. "Is she the girl that you were sleeping with on the couch the other day?"

Ruka looked at Natsume, shocked. "I didn't know that…"

Natsume gave Koko a malicious look that should've frozen him on the spot, and would have, had Koko been normal. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Koko snorted, "Let me guess, you're just 'friends'?" Another snort. "Natsume, my dear friend, girls don't cuddle against guys like that when they're just 'friends'. And a guy wouldn't cuddle back with said 'friend.'"

Natsume kicked Koko from under the table. It wasn't that he was afraid to hit him in public, it was just that it wasn't convenient to reach all the way over the table.

"Who is this girl, Natsume?" Ruka spluttered. He was apparently shocked from hearing that Natsume slept with a girl. Even with his past girlfriends, he never stayed the night, nor let them stay the night in his apartment. Ever.

Natsume didn't answer. Instead, he glared at Koko.

And Koko, oblivious to the glare, grinned and started describing the girl he had seen in his apartment. "She looked a little on the short side, but she was pretty cute and had long brown hair. That's all I could really tell, since Natsume here kept hogging her all to himself. I mean, really, when will you learn to share?" Koko asked his murderous-looking friend, batting his eyes.

"She was never yours to begin with," snapped Natsume. Because, after all, it was true.

"Hang on," Ruka said, "does this girl happen to be the same person who's been tutoring you for the past two months?"

Natsume gave him a dark look. "What's it to you?"

Ruka raised his hands out in defense. "Nothing. Just wanted to know, that's all." He subtly cleared his throat. "So…do you like her?"

Koko grinned at this.

Natsume looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "She…" he began tentatively, "she's different."

"Different from what?" asked Koko, slurping his root beer.

"From all the other stupid girls in this academy, obviously," he said. He was so tired of all of Koko's stupid questions.

"Is she cute?" Koko asked. 'I didn't get a good look the other day."

"Is she nice?" Ruka asked.

Apparently, the two of Natsume's 'friends' were gaining up on him. But he knew that if he didn't answer every single one of their damn questions, they would never leave him alone until he finally broke down. Just thinking about those long, irritating hours of hearing ht e same question over and over again made Natsume's gut churn with dread.

He sighed, "Yes and yes."

"But she's just a friend?" returned Ruka.

"Maybe…"

"If she's not," Koko intruded, "can I have her?"

This time when Natsume kicked him, he yelped from the pain. Koko rubbed his shin bitterly, his constant grin now falling slightly.

That is, until he remarked, "I guess that means that you do like her."

Natsume groaned.

"Wait a minute," Ruka said, scratching his blonde hair, "I thought you said that she was a pain in the ass?"

Natsume bristled. So what if he said that? That was nearly two months ago; things change. "That was-"

His objection was interrupted by a shrill shriek.

"NATSUME!"

Natsume cringed. He turned around to find Sumire seething at him. She walked towards their booth.

"Shit," he mumbled.

"What was this I heard about you and a girl!" demanded Sumire, her screams gathering attention.

"What about it?" drawled Natsume.

Sumire's face was flushed from anger. Her hair was frizzy and even stood up on end. "I heard that you two were…" She gave a small sob and said, "Romantically involved."

Natsume rolled his eyes. He and Mikan hadn't even kissed yet and now they were the school's gossip couple? Pathetic.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Shouda," he spat. "So get lost."

She immediately started bawling her eyes out.

Natsume pinched the bridge of his nose when he felt a headache coming on. Sumire's blubbering cries were an awful sound. Like a baby with a disgustingly snotty nose.

"Hey Ruka, didn't you say that Natsume thought that his tutor-girl was a fat-faced pig or something?" he asked curiously.

Though that got Sumire to calm down, Natsume had already reached his boiling point. He hated all these questions and attempted interrogations. Each question was another needle in his head, feeding his already big headache. And all of this happened just because of Mikan.

"A fat-faced boar!" he growled menacingly. "If you really want to know what I think of her, then fine."

He had had enough. Each question was another needle in his head, feeding his already big headache. Natsume had to make it stop.

"She's a stupid girl who doesn't know what's good for her She has horrible fashion sense and doesn't know how to take out her anger properly. Not to mention she's a crybaby."

He was ranting now. But he couldn't stop. "Her face makes me nauseous and she smells like a dead rabbit! Judging by everything about her, I bet she doesn't even have enough money for this school," Natsume added contemptuously.

Sumire squealed and jumped up, clapping her hands together. "I just knew that you wouldn't fall for some girl dressed in rags!" She clung to his arm.

Natsume was about to shrug/push her off when he heard a shaky gasp from behind him. He turned around to face the eavesdropper when he came face-to-face with Mikan.

Mikan.

Her hair was up, like it always was unless she was in Natsume's apartment, as were her glasses. Mikan's eyes were downcast, hiding her tear-filled eyes. She was trembling.

When she looked up to meet his gaze, Natsume felt like his heart shattered.

Her expression was even worse than that day when he caught her crying.

She opened her mouth and whispered in a shaky voice so low, Natsume had to strain himself to hear her broken words. "I can trust you, huh?"

Mikan slowly turned and walked away. Away from Natsume.

"No, Mikan!" he yelled and grabbed her arm. "You don't understand-"

"Please don't tell me that." Mikan's voice was small, like it could be crushed any second. "I heard everything you said about me, Natsume. And you know what? You're right."

He couldn't move. He couldn't say anything. But oh how he wished he could.

"I'm not pretty," she continued wretchedly. "And I know that I'm a big pain in the ass. I don't even have any smarts to make up for it."

Mikan started crying there, not like Sumire, though. Natsume watched as the crystalline droplets rolled down her face. She tried to smile. Even after everything, she still tried to smile. "But it's okay, because… you're not the first to think that, Natsume."

Mikan released herself from Natsume's hold and walked away.

She was gone before he could even register everything that happened.

The only thoughts that ran through Natsume's mind were repeated over and over: Mikan was gone. And it was because of him.

Abruptly, something on his arm pulled him away from where Mikan once stood. Natsume was forced to look into the green eyes of Sumire.

"She looked really sad," she commented. "But at least she'll stay away from my Natsume." Sumire started to giggle.

Rage boiled through Natsume. His entire frame shook with the fury he felt.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

"Hmm?" Sumire looked up to see his livid expression. "Is something wrong?"

He swung his arm out, effectively detaching himself from her. Natsume's red eyes blazed. "If you ever come near me again," he snarled, "I'll kill you."

Without sparing her or his friends another glance, Natsume ran out the door.

Four hours. Natsume spent four hours searching for Mikan. But he couldn't find her anywhere.

He looked in every street that was even somewhat near Alice Academy, but she wasn't in any of them. So he looked in every alley, but even then, she didn't turn up. Natsume looked in what felt like every single damn crevice in all of Tokyo, but he couldn't find Mikan anywhere. He never felt so miserable and angry in his life.

Natsume stomped over to his bedroom and slammed the door. He flopped down onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

This was all Sumire's fault. If she didn't show up and start wailing, then he would never have said all those hateful things about Mikan.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it was Mikan's fault, as well. If she just remembered how much he cared about her and looked after her now, then she would have knew that he didn't actually think that-not anymore.

Natsume felt shame wash over him. He couldn't believe that he actually tried to blame Mikan and Sumire for everything that happened.

He rolled over onto his side, a small frown appearing on his face. Natsume remembered the way Mikan tried not to cry in front of him, how she tried to make it seem like it was okay that he thought so ill of her. The part that baffled him the most was that it seemed that Mikan was trying to comfort him, like she thought he might feel guilty from her hearing what he said.

'But it's okay, because…you're not the first to think that, Natsume.'

Natsume clenched his right hand tightly, making sharp, red indents in his palm. His gut was twisting uncomfortably yet there seemed to be a sort of unfamiliar emptiness in there, too. He blamed it on the guilt. But then, guilt never felt so unbearable before.

'You're right.'

No, he wasn't. He was far from it. Natsume squeezed his eyes tightly. Everything he said was a lie. He didn't even mind her clothes so much anymore. As long as Mikan liked them.

A knock sounded from the door. After a grunt from Natsume, a sympathetic Ruka and a timid-looking Koko entered.

"What?" Natsume asked, not looking at either of them.

Ruka sat down on his bed. "We're sorry for how things…turned out."

Natsume remained silent.

"And we're sorry for asking so many questions even though we know how much you hate it!" blurted Koko. "We just really wanted you to get Mikan to go out with you. And maybe hang out with us…She seems really cool by the way you talk about her." Koko trailed off sheepishly.

Natsume grunted, "I don't know what you're talking about. I barely talk about her."

Ruka looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Are you serious? Natsume," he exclaimed, "She's all you talk about."

Natsume froze. That wasn't true at all. "I talk about other things, too, in case you haven't noticed," he said.

Ruka merely shook his head. "Not nearly as much as you talk about Mikan. You always insult her and go around saying that she's the dumbest girl you've ever met. But still," he said, looking away and crinkling his brows in slight bewilderment, "you're never frowning or anything when you talk about her."

"It's kinda weird," added Koko good-naturedly.

Natsume finally met Ruka's gaze. "Then why did you ask if I still thought that she was a fat-faced boar?" he asked heatedly, inwardly wincing at his own harsh words.

"Because you never told me what your tutor's name was," he shrugged apologetically. "I never really put two and two together."

"No shit." Natsume buried his face into his pillow.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Koko asked hesitantly, "What are you gonna do about Mikan?"

Natsume lay on his bed, unmoving. How on earth was he supposed to make it up to her? Narumi already made it pretty clear that her life was messed up, and Natsume had only made it worse.

His heart sank even more. "I don't know, Koko," he replied in a half-whisper. "I really don't."

Natsume didn't know how long it was that the three of them stayed in his bedroom. All he remembered was Ruka patting his back comfortingly, and the awful feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball and never leaving his room again.

He sat in a desk, arms crossed, head down, as he waited yet again for Mikan to arrive. This was the third time that she had skipped the lessons. Natsume understood why she didn't turn up for the first lesson since the whole episode at MacDonald's, and he could give her some sympathy for not showing up for the second one, either, but this was just pissing him off.

Natsume hadn't seen her in five days, damnit. He needed to tell her how sorry he was (and that alone was a very rare case) and that he didn't mean any of it. But how the hell was he supposed to do that when she wouldn't even face him?

When he realized that she might not be tutoring him for a while, he tried looking for her at Alice Academy. But his efforts were in vain; no matter where he looked, Natsume couldn't find Mikan anywhere. It was like she had cut herself off from his life entirely.

And now he was sitting here like a pathetic puppy waiting for his master to come pick him up. But the worst part was that he didn't care (much). He felt like an idiot, sitting all alone for two hours in the art room, thinking hopefully, Maybe she's late. Mikan's late all the time. Only to have to watch the same desk as his expectations and hopes never fell through.

And yet he still waited. Natsume waited and waited, until he was forced to accept the fact that Mikan wasn't going to come tonight.

Dejectedly, he grabbed his coat and left the building. Mikan would come on Monday for sure. Right?

Natsume tapped his foot with impatience. Mikan still hadn't shown up.

He didn't know why she was over-reacting. It was obvious that he didn't think all of those things, so why did she have to believe it so full-heartedly? She should at least give him a chance to redeem himself.

Sure, he shouldn't have said any of that stuff, and he shouldn't have taken his anger out on her, and he should have stopped her when she ran from him…Natsume groaned and banged his head on the desk.

Mikan had every reason to be mad at him. He had no right for saying everything that he did. He just wished that she would finally let him see her. He was getting so restless.

A half-hour passed before Natsume finally decided to do something while he waited for Mikan. Tentatively, he walked over to the back room and grabbed some brushes, a canvas, and a set of acrylic paints. He set up the easel, remembering everything that Mikan had told him. Natsume looked at the brushes in his hand for a while. What the hell am I supposed to paint? he thought at last.

Shrugging off his initial uncertainty, Natsume chose a flat brush and spread some of each colour onto his palette. He dipped his brush into a dark orange and promptly slashed the brush across the canvas violently.

That felt…pretty good, he thought. Natsume repeatedly slashed his brush against the canvas, occasionally adding tints of red and yellow.

His arm moved rapidly; he almost didn't know what his next move was until he did it. Blindly, he stuck the paintbrush against the canvas as a final stroke.

Natsume stepped back and looked at what he created.

Fire.

The formerly-white canvas blazed brightly even in the poorly lit room. The warm colours seemed to burn so furiously, Natsume thought that it fit him very much.

He stopped. Narumi's words filled his mind. "And I think you need to understand the real concept and expressionism of art more, too."

Natsume slumped against the edge of the table next to him. So he finally understood what expressionism meant. Why didn't he feel…happy? Was it because he truly didn't care about art?

No, ever since he started liking Mikan, he had stopped hating it. Then was it because Mikan wasn't here to get excited for him?

Natsume didn't notice the small smile grace his features-the first in days-as he thought about how she would react. First, she would smile and say in an exasperated voice, "Well it's about time!" or "Finally, I was beginning to think you really were going to fail art." And then she would playfully hit his shoulder, to which he would respond by flicking her forehead.

Natsume's thoughts began to roam.

Mikan would laugh and embrace him, and he would hug her back (of course). Then, she would look up, just as he was about to look down, and their lips would meet and-

Natsume shook himself out of his fantasies. When did that happen? he asked himself. Sighing, he decided to drop the question; he had far too many already in his mind.

Quickly, he straightened and put away the supplies that he had used. He looked at his watch. 10:17. He let out a low sigh.

Natsume walked out into the rain, thinking absent-mindedly, Mikan liked the rain.

"You can't be serious," Natsume said as he looked disbelievingly at Narumi.

"It's true," the thick professor said, "Mikan told me that you don't need her help to pass art anymore, and quite frankly, I agree."

Natsume lowered his head, his bangs covering his eyes. His body started to shake uncontrollably.

"Your skill in both drawing and painting has improved a lot since you first started, so much, in fact, that I didn't know it was possible, my dear Natsume," praised Narumi. He walked around his office, his arms swinging by his side. "You already have a B. Don't tell me that you still think that you need Mikan for a pass-"

"I do."

He looked up to see Narumi looking at him curiously. "Why is that?" he asked.

Natsume lowered his gaze again before saying, "I need to hear her stupid high-pitched voice everyday to nag me about treating people so rudely and smiling more. I need to see her brainless figure chasing me all over the place because I stole her glasses again. I need to smell that repulsive strawberry stench that follows her around everywhere." He bit the inside of his lip and went on. "I need Mikan. I need her in my life again."

He couldn't tell Narumi how much he wanted to hold Mikan again, or how much he wanted to bury his nose in her hair and stay like that for the rest of the year. And without doubt, Natsume could not tell him just how much he wanted to taste her sweet, plump lips, along with the rest of her body, as well.

Narumi walked over to his seat and sat back down. He tilted his head and clucked, "Tut tut, looks like Natsume's in love. What a pity."

Natsume glared at him before growling, "I'm not stopping the lessons, and you can't either."

He stalked out of the stupid frilly office of Narumi and made his way to the art room.

It was already evening, but there were still a few people in the art room catching up on work that they had procrastinated on. Natsume paused for a moment before heading to the back of the room, ignoring the astonished stared of his peers.

He found one of the boxes of work that Mikan frequently used to show him examples of art and such. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and walked all the way to his apartment.

Natsume sat down on the couch, setting the box of work down on the ground. He took a large sip of his soda (Mikan made him stop drinking alcohol) and opened the box.

Immediately, he faced the horrid picture of 'Two Bunnies In Love' that Sumire had made. After staring at it again, Natsume decided that it was horrible and corny, but not as bad as he remembered it.

He flipped through many works of art, some incredibly bad, others incredibly good. Natsume stared at the picture of the garden fairy and remembered how Mikan had criticized him fervently on not trying in art.

He found the stormy seas that crashed together on toothed, jagged rocks all because of some idiot guy that cheated on a girl.

Finally, Natsume found the picture of the plain, old chair facing the plain, old wall. This picture was probably one of his favourites now. He grinned when he traced the squiggly lines that used to bother him so much. Still grinning, he flipped the painting over to read the description.

Empty

Natsume snorted at the title. He briefly wondered what Mikan thought about the name until he looked down and read the artist's name.

Mikan Sakura

He dropped the painting. Natsume's eyes widened in horror. Mikan painted this.

Natsume hurried out the door and ran down the street. Mikan's words kept playing in his head like a broken record player.

'I would want to kill myself, too, if I were her.'

'I would want to kill myself, too, if I were her.'

'If I were her...'

"I'm so sorry, Mikan," he choked, ignoring the rain as he sprinted down the streets.

Natsume stopped as soon as he heard the stifled scream that echoed in the alleyway. He was still searching for Mikan, but that scream was the only thing that interrupted his hunt. Curiously, he turned around. What he saw would give him nightmares for weeks.

Several men were chasing a girl. They were armed with knives and large sticks that looked like they were made specifically to beat people, to beat the girl they were chasing.

Natsume felt his breath leave his body as he realized that the girl who was running from them was Mikan.

"No," he whispered. "NO!"

Adrenaline rushed through his body. Natsume hastily ran after the men. He had never run so fast in his entire life.

When he turned the corner, Natsume stumbled upon the men holding Mikan down on her knees, as their 'leader' spat venomously at her.

"You bitch!" he heard the man say. "Did you really think that you could run from us?" The man laughed hysterically before snarling in an inhumane voice, "Or did you think that your pretty boyfriend would let you stay at his place as long as you let him get a few?"

It was when he slapped Mikan's face that Natsume finally snapped. Everything went red. The adrenaline in his body didn't even have to push him forward.

Though his steps echoed, none of the men realized he was there until he struck the bastard who hit Mikan in the side of his head. He punched him with enough force that he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Natsume, breathing heavily, stared fiercely at the remaining men. "If you ever come near her again, I'll kill you." He said this with such a menacing voice, it surprised even himself.

"Natsume," Mikan murmured disbelievingly. There were tears in her eyes, and her face was red.

The three men released Mikan and ran at him. I guess they don't believe me, Natsume thought.

Remembering his self-defense lessons, Natsume waited until the last moment to run at the wall next to him, jump off it, and land behind one unfortunate man who gasped as Natsume hit him repeatedly in each place that he knew would hurt.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Natsume twisted and kicked the second man in the face, which sent him flying into the side of a nearby dumpster.

The last man remaining hit Natsume in the side with his large stick. Natsume, grateful that he didn't think to use his knife, turned and stuck him in he neck, hard.

Natsume bent over, panting. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned to look at Mikan.

She had approached him hesitantly, wide-eyed. Carefully, she crouched down and looked him in the eye. Natsume noticed that her glasses were gone and realized that they were probably broken on the ground somewhere.

Natsume reveled in her gaze, almost sighing with content.

"Are you okay?" Mikan said as she brushed her fingers over his side.

He suddenly remembered how melodic her voice sounded, and how much he missed it. Still caught in a slight daze, he simply nodded his head.

She looked away from his crimson eyes. "Natsume, why did you save me?" asked Mikan quietly.

It took a few moments for him to come up with an answer. Not getting any success, he replied, "Why did you think that I wouldn't save you?"

Mikan instantly narrowed her eyes. She scowled at him and pointed out, "Well, I kinda figured that you hated me. So excuse me for not thinking that you would beat those guys up for me!" She crossed her arms and turned away.

"I could…" Natsume started, his anger fading, "I could never hate you."

"Then why did you say-"

Natsume abruptly cut her off. "I was mad, okay? Ruka and Koko were already pissing me off, and Shouda came and started blubbering which made everything worse." He took in a deep breath and continued. "I may have not liked you in the beginning but then you kept pestering me and being cute and…you know, this is all your fault."

Natsume glared at Mikan accusingly.

"What the-how?" She gaped.

Natsume rolled his eyes and answered, "If you were ugly, gross, and slow like you were supposed to be, then I would have never liked you so much and gotten into this predicament."

Mikan fumed.

"By the way, why were those men chasing you?" Natsume returned. When he saw that she was intent on ignoring him, he let out a low rumble. "Answer me. Mikan. Right now."

She let out a long sigh. "I still don't see why I should tell you. Maybe you don't hate me, but I doubt you care for me very much. Good bye, Natsume."

With that said, Mikan stood and walked away, only sparing Natsume one longing look.

No. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was never supposed to be like this.

Swiftly, Natsume stood and ran up to her. When Mikan turned around, surprised, he paid no attention to her objections and scooped her up into his arms. Natsume began to walk back to his apartment.

"Put me down, Natsume!" shouted Mikan. She struggled to get out of her current bridal-style position, but her efforts were wasted. Natsume was much too strong for her.

"Like hell," he retorted. He looked in the eye. "Do you know how I felt when I kept going to the art room when you never even showed up?"

Mikan bit her lip uncomfortably.

"I would wait there like an idiot for two hours every time we were supposed to have our lessons. It got to the point where I waited there on every night hoping that I would catch you." Natsume blinked away his blurred vision. "When Narumi told me that you wanted to stop tutoring me…I don't know, I just never felt that terrible in my life before.

"And when I saw your name on the back of that painting, I lost it. I looked for you everywhere. I didn't-I don't know what I would do to myself if you weren't with me…" He was aware of how pathetic and weak he sounded, but he couldn't find the will to care. He just needed Mikan to believe him.

"I'm so sorry, Mikan." He moved her a bit so he could rest his cheek against her head for a moment as he walked.

Rain started to spit. Looking up, Natsume realized that they only had so much time before it began to pour.

Natsume started to run again, earning him a very cute squeak from Mikan. She wrapped her arms around his neck to help keep herself from falling (as if that would happen).

Within minutes, they were at Natsume's front door. He kicked it open and shut it with the same force. Refusing to let Mikan down yet, he strode over to the living room, where he found Koko watching TV.

Natsume gave him one look before saying, "We're watching TV. Out."

Koko grinned slyly and let out what sounded like-and probably was-a perverted sort of hum. He then got off the couch and walked to his room. As soon as he shut the door, Natsume finally set Mikan down.

"Natsume!" she said. "You can't just kick people out of the room like that!"

Natsume grinned down at her. He really missed her nagging him.

"Of course I can," he said. "Especially considering all the shit he's put me through."

"That's no excuse."

He shrugged and lightly pushed her over to the couch, where he sat down.

Timidly, Mikan sat down next to him.

"Now's the time to tell me why those men were chasing you," Natsume practically commanded.

"It's kind of a long story…"

"Then start from the beginning."

She sighed and leaned back. Taking in a deep breath, she began talking. "My parents died in an accident when I was seven. I had no brothers or sisters, so I was all alone. I was sent to live in an orphanage-I didn't have any relatives, you see-until a man came and adopted me. His name was Persona. I was so happy that I got to finally leave the orphanage." Mikan's eyes started getting teary.

"Persona was-is-in a gang. He was constantly away and left me in the care of his right hand men. Apparently, the only reason I was adopted was so that they could…play with me or something. They beat me a lot. And they like to taunt me and call me awful names…"

She was wavering now. Natsume, concerned, reached out and put his arms around her, urging her to continue. Mikan leaned into his touch, forgetting her initial anger.

"I was so scared all the time. Sometimes they would even come to my schools or follow me in public. Afterwards they would corner me and start pushing me around and stuff. One time I remember running to the police, but they denied everything and claimed that I was mental or something. That was the worst day I've ever remembered.

"I hated my life so much. I really wanted to commit suicide to just end it all, but sometimes I would remember my mom and dad or Persona would catch me and give me punishments."

Mikan bowed her head in embarrassment and shame.

Natsume couldn't believe it. This was much worse than he had thought. "Did they…touch you?" he asked hesitantly.

To his great relief, Mikan shook her head. "They tried to a few times, but I always managed to get away somehow."

She continued, "When I got accepted into Alice Academy, I was so happy. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I thought that finally, I would be able to run away from them. I would start my life all over again and have a fresh start.

"But they wouldn't let me leave, no matter how hard I tried. Those bastards made me live with them still."

Natsume stopped. "Then when I walked you home all those times-"

Mikan shook her head sadly. "That isn't where I live. I'm sorry for lying to you, I just didn't want you to see how screwed up my life is."

"I took out all my anger and frustration on my paintings and drawings," she said with remorse. "I was surprised at how much it helped."

Natsume nodded, having finally experienced that feeling himself.

"And then I met you," Mikan said with a smile. "At first I didn't like you much. You were rude and just a big jerk. But when you calmed me down one day after those men were chasing me again, I started liking you." She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes. "You were the thing that I looked forward to. I couldn't wait for our lessons because those were the only times when I felt like I was normal."

Natsume held her tighter, resting his head against her own.

"That night that I stayed here," Mikan said with a blush, "was when Persona lost it. He was mad that I was 'straying from him,' he said. Apparently, he wanted to save me for himself. Persona also said that you didn't really care about me. That you only wanted me for my body or something. He…um, hit me in the face and pushed me down some stairs. So I wasn't really lying to you when you asked what happened to me." She smiled sheepishly.

Natsume didn't think it was funny at all. Nevertheless, he let her continue.

"I really wanted to tell you what was happening, especially after you told me that I could trust you, but then I overheard what you said about me and…I don't know, it was like everything came crashing down. Like Persona had it all planned out, and I was just his puppet to amuse him."

Natsume felt guilt wash over him again. But this time it felt like an entire tidal wave came and crashed into him repeatedly, trying to drown him.

"I didn't want to see you because Persona and his men beat me even more these past couple of weeks," Mikan confessed. "I didn't really want you to see me like…this."

Natsume moved so that he could see her. She was crying. Tears ran down her face whe she tried to hide her face in his shoulder.

He took hold of her wrist and looked at it closely. He stared at her bruises fixedly before bringing her arm up to his mouth and kissing each bruise softly, hypnotized. Natsume felt Mikan stiffen, but he carried on.

He kissed each and every bruise on her arm, moving the sleeve of her shirt up. At last, Natsume released her arm and turned her face with his hand. He pressed his forehead against hers.

It explained everything: the times he caught her crying, why she acted the way she did, and why she wore glasses she didn't even need. It was all to hide herself away from everyone, to blend in.

"Mikan," Natsume said softly, "I'm so sorry. For everything." He let out a deep, shuddering breath and opened his crimson eyes to meet her caramel eyes. "Do you have anything of importance at your old place?" he asked abruptly.

Mikan, perplexed, replied, "Uh, no, just my clothes but nothing else."

"We'll get you new ones. Ones that you'll actually like," Natsume proposed. He decided to take her to a mall and buy her all the clothes that she wanted. He couldn't wait to be given a chance to spoil her. And he knew that once she let down her hair and wore decent clothing, Mikan would be a heart-stopper, his heart-stopper.

"But…why?"

"Because, I'm not going to have my girlfriend run around campus in clothes that not even she likes," Natsume answered. He grinned at her expression.

"B-but…huh?" Mikan was completely and utterly baffled.

"From now on, you'll be living with me," he stated. "You'll sleep with me in my room-" mischievous smile- "and I'll let you share my closet. I barely use it anyways."

Mikan narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't I get a say in this?" When he shook his head, she said, "You don't have to do this, Natsume. You've already done so much for me. I don't want to be a free-loader or anything-"

"Can you cook?" Natsume interrupted.

Mikan blinked. "…Yes…"

"Then you're not a free-loader. I've been living off of take-out for the past few months and it's already gotten old. I can't cook for myself and eating Koko's food is out of the question."

Natsume looked at her longingly. "Please Mikan, just stay with me. I want to live with you."

She gave him a strange look. "What if you get bored of me one day? Or if we keep fighting and stuff?"

It was Natsume's turn for the strange look. "Do you honestly think that's going to happen what with all the crap we've been through?"

Mikan laughed, which made Natsume's heart soar. "I guess you're right. Alright," she said, "I'll live with you, but only until I get a job and have enough money to live-"

Natsume pressed his lips against hers. This was pure ecstasy. Mikan's lips were sweet and when she started kissing him back, Natsume was in seventh heaven. He loved the way she reacted to his touch, and the way she whimpered in pleasure when he deepened the kiss.

After pulling away for breath, Natsume glared at her.

"What did I do now?" she asked, exasperated.

"You are going to live with me until we both drop dead. That's final."

Natsume kissed her again until she finally gave in.

They both laid on the couch comfortably, Mikan sprawled on Natsume's chest as he held her. He was so happy that he had her back in his life again, and he would be damned if he ever let her go.

Looking down, he told Mikan in a soft voice, "I love you."

She looked back up at him and said, "Good. Because you know how much I hate unrequited love."

Author's Note: FINALLY! I'm so sorry that it took so long to post, but I hope that this chapter made up for it ;) I'll be returning to writing my first story, The Bet, and I hope to post the next chapter in a couple of weeks.

Please REVIEW! (It makes me update faster)