Loved by Law

Inspired by: Ann Kelly's Partners in Passion, Sophie Kinsella's The Undomestic Goddess, and the television drama Full House.

Disclaimer: The writer lawfully respects the work of Tachibana Higuchi.

Chapter I: City

Here in these deep city lights

Girl could get lost tonight

I'm finding every reason to be gone

There's nothing here to hold onto

Could I hold you?

(Sara Bareilles)

Two Years Ago

The sky above her was painted a breathtaking mix of orange, blue, and purple— and like an ornate piece of art, while she didn't claim to be adept, pulled her in a state of momentary awe. She had to admire the scenic view for a few short heartbeats. The fog has lifted and the morning sunlight peeking through the clouds gently caressed her upturned face, but the cold January weather was unmistaken. She tightened her jacket closer around her body. When the clouds started to move, gradually revealing the bright star, she sighed and finally lowered her head.

Start walking, Mikan.

Her train arrived in fifteen minutes. The next one wouldn't come along until two hours later. By then, someone would have found her already. It wasn't difficult to track someone who's ran away- there was only one way out.

Any day now.

She took the next few, albeit cautious, steps trying to assure herself she was doing the right thing. After all, she didn't belong here. Sure, she became used to the farm and the local marketplace, the singing birds and cackling hen, the weekly mass services and six o'clock prayer time. Anyone would, if you've lived there long enough.

Forget it, she told herself with what she hoped was more conviction, This isn't your place.

Just as she was about to quicken her pace, the cold wind carried a familiar voice to her ears. "What are you doing?"

She stopped in her track, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, a telltale sign of someone whose hands were caught halfway a cookie jar. Slowly, she turned to face the one person she tried to avoid. "I thought you were asleep."

"I got your letter," he told her, raising his hand to show the folded piece, slightly creased in his probably haste. "Didn't explain where you're going. Where are you going?" His eyes darted from the stuffed duffle bag to her layered clothing, the well-worn sneakers on her feet that could only mean a distant trip.

"I'm sorry, Ken," she said gingerly. Her palms started to sweat, the leather handles of her holdall slippery against her skin.

"Sorry?" He shot back, his tone slightly louder and more forceful than hers. "For what, exactly?"

"I don't…" Breathe. "I have to go. I don't belong here," Mikan finally said, her voice coming out throaty and scared. She was always honest with Ken, never had problems telling him the truth, so why did this feel different? Why did she even think writing an ill-defined letter could appease someone as pushy and persistent as her friend?

"You didn't seem to think so last week," he stated with a particularly accusatory tone.

Mikan flinched. Last weekend, a wealthy family in town held a sort of thanksgiving year-ender at the orphanage- their mess hall was abundant with cake, balloons, games, and laughter. Despite having already made her decision four months ago, it was easy to get lost in the moment. After a very competitive game of sack race, Mikan, with her dirty elbows and messed up hair, delightedly declared that it was one of the best days of her life. "I know, but things change."

"Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be leaving me. I thought we were best friends?"

"We are," her voice croaked, begging for him to understand, "You're one of the best people in my life, but Ken- don't make that face! You know I love you but I can't stay here. Not anymore."

Despite her pleading and the attempts of explanation, Ken didn't understand what Mikan was trying to say- or not saying. "Why now? For years… we love it here, Mikan. This is our home."

"It is, it always will be, but I have to find my mom. I need to see her." When he didn't say anything, she tried again, "Please understand. I have to do this."

"She left you."

Mikan scowled, mostly at his timber than his choice of words. "You think I haven't noticed? That she hasn't come back for me? Trust me, I didn't spend the last decade thinking I was on vacation."

"That's my point. She left you and she hasn't come back. It's been ten years and not once did your mom think to keep in touch other than to send you letters until you were nine, then she was gone. For good. I know how you feel. You think you're different from everyone else but you're like us. Your parents are gone and your mom left you, too, so if you can't accept that as your truth then maybe you do need to get away."

She hated Ken right now, hated how he's right, hated how his words stung more than he probably intended to. Instead of arguing some more, she decided to raise the proverbial white flag. Her eyes looked up at her dearest friend, beseeching and desperate, "Please don't tell them."

There was a moment's silence as she allowed him to swallow her words- that whatever he said, however he tried to guilt-trip her into staying, she was sticking to her decision. Finally, he blurted out a last-ditch effort, "We'll do it together. Wait for a few more weeks. Wait until my birthday."

"I can't wait." Her lips quivered and her heart dropped to her feet. "I haven't seen my mom for so long and I can't live like this anymore. I need to do this alone. I'm sorry but… I have to go."

Without another word, she turned and left her best friend and her home.

Present

The morning ride to the office was spent by Natsume Hyuuga humorlessly assessing his friendship with Ruka Nogi. While he didn't necessarily reported to Ruka, who was a fellow high-level associate, it often ended up this way when one of the partners wanted something done- they delegated it to the more judicious of the group, and that wasn't Natsume. Ruka never pulled rank on anyone, even among the first-year associates or the paralegals which made him an ideal candidate. But that wasn't why Natsume was deep in thought that morning, no.

First, it was because for some inane reason, Ruka thought it wise to send Natsume's legal secretary- a waggish yet admittedly dependable employee forcibly appointed to him by another senior associate, Hotaru Imai- to wake him up at five o'clock with a very obnoxious, very loud siren alarm. While Natsume never overslept, he wasn't a morning person either, especially when woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

What came a close second was Oishi, a recent addition to Natsume's entourage at Ruka's insistence (Apparently, his colleagues, who never usually meddled with his personal life, deemed it acceptable to interfere with his work dynamics). There was nothing wrong about his driver of six weeks, if you followed Ruka's standards. Oishi was polite, punctual, and more knowledgeable about shortcuts than a cabbie. However, he was also a particularly careful driver, impossibly more than the one before him (Genjiro, forty-eight, wouldn't even overtake an old Mondial on the highway).

Natsume wasn't dumb. He knew it wasn't by chance- it was absolutely intentional, a precaution from Ruka Nogi who didn't want to risk an impetuous Natsume on the road again after getting into at least three car accidents in his prime.

It wasn't long (although it felt like years) when Oishi stopped in front of A.A. Tower, which housed Alice Law Firm. While muttering incoherent yet palpably heated things, Natsume slammed the door in annoyance.

"Is something wrong, Natsume?" Narumi smiled, getting off the car as well. "If I were you, I wouldn't take it on the car."

"You wanna volunteer?" Natsume snapped but Narumi merely grinned.

While Narumi was older by a few years, he hardly looked and acted his age- a conundrum, if Natsume had ever seen one, given it was Hotaru who hired him in the first place. Natsume initially denied, insisting instead that there was a steady supply of associates he could always borrow, but the woman was adamant and said that if he was going to take on an unnatural amount of cases and delegated random tasks to paralegals on the floor with that attitude, it was better for everyone that he had someone who tolerated only him.

What was it that she said? Ah, yes. Her exact words were: "You may be a good lawyer, Hyuuga, but you'll always be a child."

It was fairly quiet as they crossed the lobby as most of the employees arrived thirty past six to seven. The only sound heard was the occasional ping from the elevators, combined with silent murmurs from half-asleep employees and Narumi's joyful humming. Natsume would've ceased it but he wasn't going to give up early in the morning.

When they got on the lift, a haggard-looking associate dashed towards their direction, and Narumi automatically held the doors open. "Mr. Hyuuga, sir," he panted, "The notes you wanted retyped yesterday," He thrust a folder to Narumi's free hand, "The drafted contract for Project D," he pulled another folder from his arm, "and your morning coffee." He shifted his stance a bit and handed a large-size take-out coffee to Natsume.

He bowed and walked off after Narumi thanked him. As Natsume sipped a generous amount, he was given a rundown of his morning schedule.

"…in the briefing room at…"

Ding. "Morning, Mr. Hyuuga."

"…by sixteen past eight…"

Ding. "Good so far, sir?"

"…review the memorandum for..."

Ding.

Ping. "See you later, Mr. Hyuuga."

"…meeting with the Estate department..."

Ping. "Hyuuga."

"Imai."

"…early lunch before the deposition in…"

Ping.

"…for the divorce settlement next week," Narumi finished just as they walked out of the elevator. The glass walls oversaw the busy city streets of another weekday morning.

"You're still with that woman?" Hotaru said mockingly. Her heels clacked against the tiles as they walked. "She's a complete nut."

"I don't give up on cases," Natsume replied briefly.

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "Right. I forgot you take pleasure in being a self-important overbearing ass. But who am I to judge?"

"Coffee, Miss Imai?" Her secretary joined their throng and handed Hotaru an espresso. "Good morning, Mr. Hyuuga."

"The files, Anna?"

"Right here." Anna answered promptly and showed her a stack of seven folders, her pink hair dangling at the back of her head in a neat ponytail. Natsume noticed Hotaru eye the bright mane for a fraction of a second. "Sorted by date, stamped, and ready for signing."

"Thank you."

"And Mr. Nogi wants to know if he can so kindly have those pictures from the…"

"Let's hear it from him, shall we?" Hotaru smirked, opening a conference room.

Three of the walls were painted a light grey, with dry-erase glass boards erected against it. Just behind the row of armchairs was another clear view of the city skyline. Before it stood a young blonde man in a one-button single-breasted suit, one who looked as if he woke up this early every day. "Good morning," he greeted and gestured; "Take a seat."

Natsume rolled his eyes at his best friend before sinking to one. "You're buying lunch for having me up at an ungodly hour." He drank the last of his coffee and motioned for Narumi to get him another.

Ruka shook his head amusedly and sunk to the chair behind the window. He glanced at Natsume on his left and to Hotaru on the other side; then, he sighed. "I'm going to lose my secretary."

There was a brief pause before the one on his left asked, unable to keep the dubious tone, "That's it?"

"No, of course not."

"Get on with it, Nogi."

Ruka spared Hotaru an irritated expression. "I won't bring up you-know-what right now, Imai, but I assure you that once this meeting is over, we are having a nice, long talk about privacy and harassment." He swung back to professional mode and cleared his throat. "Jinno handed me a case last night. Says to figure it out as soon as we can, preferably with minimal to no public knowledge." He dropped identical labeled folders on the desk.

Natsume reached for one but didn't open it. "We?"

"We as in… you, me, and Kinsey Millhone here."

"Three of us on a case? Has Jinno gone mad?"

Ruka shrugged. "He just said we need to settle it as soon as possible."

More suspicious than curious, Hotaru seized a folder and quickly scanned the contents. "This is a missing person case."

"Congratulations, Sherlock," Natsume commented dryly, but when Hotaru looked up to give him a piece of her mind, she noticed that he was looking at Ruka, not her. "You just made us three the laughingstock of my dad's firm- as if we needed another reason."

"I know it looks bad-"

"Bad?" Hotaru scoffed, unnecessarily slapping the folder back on the desk. "Nogi, this is humiliating. An associate could do this in a week."

"Then I suppose you can manage in half that time, Imai," a new voice mused out loud. The owner sauntered in with his hands firmly on his pockets, the cuffs of his white button-down shirt roughly pushed back. "Chief Inspector Shiki came over yesterday to share this case with Jinno."

"Noda. You know this how?" Natsume asked warily (and too casually for a superior, Ruka wanted to point out).

Nodacchi thought for a moment but decided against sharing his secrets. "Can't tell you that. What I can tell you is that Imai is right. In fact, given the recent media interest over Natsume's celebrity client, I think it's best he steps back."

"Recent interest? The last time she was mentioned in the news was when she had a breakdown in front of the press."

"Not exactly…" Narumi was heard mumbling. The four looked up: two questioning, one bored, one expectant. "Your client, Miss Hatsuni…" his voice trailed, eyes firmly on his phone. Anna peered over his shoulder to read.

Natsume raised a brow. "I'm meeting her after lunch."

"Maybe you should ask why she was rushed to the hospital two nights ago."

"Two nights- when? Where?"

"Before you make a big deal- it's from the tabloid," Narumi warned his boss. He held up his phone to show the online article published by a vindictive tabloid Natsume was familiar with. "It's pretty short- no photos of her getting in, but she apparently came to treat a nasty bruise, a broken finger-"

"Are you kid-"

"-I wish I was lying, trust me. Bruise, broken finger, cast on her arm, forehead cut, 'allegedly caused by her husband of three years, property tycoon Sora Takahashi, with whom she's filed a divorce from.' Yada, yada… 'Former swimsuit model' mentioned, of course… Oh look, you're here, too. 'When asked about the divorce, Hatsuni assures that her lawyer, Atty. Natsume Hyuuga of Alice Law, is doing everything he can to yada, yada… They don't mention the Igarashi Group this time, what a waste of article," he added as a joke, but Natsume didn't even crack a smile.

Ruka turned to Natsume. "She hasn't mentioned anything about this, has she?"

Natsume shook his head. "That only means the article is false. There's no way she'd forget to include something as huge as that."

Yura Hatsuni Takahashi has been his client for a little over a month, from when she wept beautiful tears in the downstairs lobby, surrounded by the press, about divorcing her husband due to irreconcilable differences. Because Yura couldn't get through the first week of negotiation nor any of the early deposition preps without turning on the waterworks, Natsume suggested bi-weekly counselling sessions on the fifth floor.

"Now that's out of the way," Noda went on, seeming to revel in the fact that he had been dishing out information all conversation. "I have it on good authority as well that Ruka's due for a big client sometime next week."

Hotaru's eyes narrowed in realization as Nodacchi's unspoken challenge rang across her ears. While Natsume acted casual around Noda (given he was a family friend and Natsume's father's former associate), he was Hotaru's immediate supervisor and mentor. Admittedly the pairing seemed beyond odd but it made for an interesting balance of personalities and comedic power trips.

"I handle corporate and mergers," she said, though not really as an explanation.

"Then I'm sure you can merge this in your schedule. Should I tell Jinno to expect it in three days?"

"I need those files tomorrow, fifteen past eight."

"Yes, sir."

"And I want them compiled in a new envelope."

"I think the crumpled effect makes a nice touch, if you ask me."

"Just do it, Narumi."

"Yes, sir. And, Natsume?"

"Hn."

"Aoi prefers her ice cream cold and frozen."

He ended the call with mild displeasure. Narumi didn't need to remind him that he was two hours and nineteen minutes late (and he bet Aoi was counting, too), but this time, he had a valid excuse- although one he couldn't share with her yet.

With a quick glance at the speedometer and a hasty prayer thrown in the air, he turned and accelerated on a familiar road, knowing full well its absence of cops and street cameras. While he was running late, he didn't exactly regret how he hose to spend his time- it had been a long day.

Natsume didn't like to agree with Hotaru but she was right (as she almost always is). His client was nuts, a cross between a train wreck and an emotional explosion. When he gently asked her about her late-night visit to the ER, the twenty-five-year-old burst into fat tears, and it took Narumi a good fifteen minutes and two boxes of tissues before she finally calmed down and clearly told him everything. Teary eyed and choking, she went on a long and quite boring story on the men she met before her husband, the string of lovers in between, her husband (finally), and how he was so kind and affectionate and handsome, and naturally, "I fell in love!"

He could only imagine what his face contorted to during the one-sided conversation he pretended to be engaged in for although her romantic history hardly serves any significance on the case itself, she was generously paying him for his time and services.

Natsume slowed down the speed as the apartment and an all-too-familiar car he mentally referred to as the textbook definition of impractical. Only Aoi could manage to reason out why she preferred a Kei-car with painfully limited legroom and dismally low horsepower. With a last look of disappointment and regret towards his sister's car, Natsume went to park his across the street, within view of the apartment's CCTV, and took the short walk and three flights of stairs to his unit.

The first thing he noticed was that the hallway was too eerily quiet. With his senses heightened, he hastened his pace to unit 303, counted to five, and slowly pushed the door open. All the lights were off save for the lamp on the mezzanine bedroom. This prompted him to be alert, for even before bed, Aoi always left the bathroom or kitchen light on. He took a cautious step, eyes narrowed at every possible hiding place, before-

There.

The silhouette was female but it wasn't Aoi- the person was smaller, thinner, and had longer hair. She didn't notice Natsume enter because she was fumbling with the zipper of her bag, muttering to herself- Probably couldn't fit everything, he grimaced. Natsume quickly assessed the best way to approach the female intruder when she finally looked up, noticed his unmoving frame, and without another thought threw her bag against his torso.

He almost fell on his back but he kept himself up and allowed his briefcase to tumble on the hardwood floor. Guaranteed that he had more than a few kilos of weight working on his favor, Natsume charged after the girl, quickly deflecting the messy punch she threw, and used her wrist to his advantage by pushing it behind her.

"Who the hell are you?" they both yelled through the scuffle.

The door was pushed wide open and the lights were switched on. Natsume hardly got a good look at the girl he held in front of him, but Aoi seemed rightfully shocked- until she said something that startled him.

"Natsume, you idiot! Get off the poor thing!"

"I think I have the right to be suspicious if someone I don't know is in my apartment," he defended while rubbing an ice pack against his jaw, where the duffle bag buckle hit him.

"Suspicious, not violent!" Aoi protested. She finished making tea and set a steaming cup in front of her guest, one for herself, and a glass of warm water towards her brother. "This is too embarrassing. Mikan, I'm so sorry about Natsume. I swear he doesn't always act like a savage."

"The lights were shut off!" Natsume explained with a scowl. "And she threw the first punch."

"I thought you were a ghost, okay?" the girl reasoned. She wasn't bruised like him but she kept wringing her wrists from where he bounded them with his hands earlier. "And the lights were off because Aoi and I were watching a movie before she went to buy- stuff," she finished lamely, omitting the reason why Aoi had to run to the convenience store.

"And the duffle bag?"

"I told you, I thought you were a ghost." He made a noncommittal sound and a gesture signaling that he didn't mean that. "Oh. I was rubbing candle wax on the zipper. It won't shut. Didn't figure I needed to turn the lights on."

"See?" Aoi demanded, her dark eyes furiously regarding her brother. "You overreacted. Apologize to her!"

Natsume ignored this. "You could have just told me you were having someone over my apartment," he said meaningfully.

Similar to his disregard, Aoi paid no heed to his telling remark. "I figured it was better if I didn't give you the option to disagree. Besides, I don't have a choice. She got kicked out of her apartment and if I didn't ask her to stay, she would've spent the night outside- in the cold. Good thing I did, too, otherwise I would've spent the last five hours watching horror movies alone."

As if finally remembering his rush, Natsume stood from the dining and opened the door to pick up the abandoned tub of ice cream that was supposed to be a peace offering. He brought it back inside and placed it in front of his sister, who scooped up the now-soft and slightly melted ice cream with her spoon.

"I thought you accidentally-on-purpose forgot about movie night," she was saying through half a mouthful, "So I asked her to stay up with me. Probably won't happen again, after what you did. This is why I never have my friends over."

"What friends?"

"That's low," Aoi whispered angrily. She narrowed her eyes at him, deep in thought of an apt punishment. "Because of that, you're sleeping on the couch."

Mikan fidgeted on her seat. "He doesn't need to do that, I can have-"

"Don't bother," he interrupted her. "Think of it as an apology for coming at you, even though you have to admit, you did look suspicious."

Mikan scowled. This was Aoi's brother? He's nothing like her! In the last couple of months that Aoi spent in the cafe, she was always funny but considerate. This one, on the other hand- Natsume- sounded far too candid for anyone's liking, and that was putting it mildly. "Apology not accepted."

The side of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Where are you from again, Mikan?"

Aoi groaned. "She got kicked out, remember? Were you hit that hard?"

"Her family, idiot," Natsume waved Aoi's comments away. "Seeing as you couldn't even keep an apartment, you probably don't have a car, either. I'll make the arrangements."

Mikan's head turned to her left, looking at the girl next to her as if to ask, Is he for real? Aoi rolled her eyes in response. "You know what? You just earned yourself another offense."

"What did I say?" Natsume complained, not understanding. Didn't he just offer to take her home, all-expense paid?

"Can you try not to be a jerk for ten seconds? I didn't pick her up from the side-street, you know. Mikan's a good friend of mine. And don't even try to use the same 'you have no friends' joke, because I'd have them if you didn't treat people so rudely," Aoi retorted. "She works at the cafe, remember, the one I stay at until midnight? I went for a last minute caffeine fix and saw her closing early to find- what did she say it was- oh, a bench to sleep in."

He regarded her almost dubiously. "You were going to do that?"

Mikan shrugged. "It was worse when I first got here, it was snowing, too. I only had two layers of clothing. Now I can afford three," she added as a joke.

"You're not from Tokyo?"

"I am, but- I haven't told you this," she glanced at Aoi, "I ran away when I was eighteen. I guess 'ran away' isn't the right term when I was technically an adult, but I left without telling anyone." False, her mind sneered.

Aoi hastily reached for Mikan's hands, almost knocking over her tea. "I didn't know that!"

"You don't usually tell the customers that sort of thing…" Mikan mumbled uneasily. "It's not that unheard of."

"Aoi has a particular view on what an orphanage looks like," Natsume explained briefly, not bothering to clarify. He moved the attention towards the offensive item on the couch- the bag responsible for his newfound bruise. "That all your stuff?"

"Most of my things are locked in my apartment. I can't get in until I pay my deposit. It doesn't matter much- I wear my uniform most of the day, anyway."

Natsume noticed then the black crew neck shirt and tan skirt she wore. "That doesn't look comfortable for the weather. You don't own anything else?"

Her cheeks burned at his implication. "Excuse you. I can afford clothes, okay? I'm not that poor, although my landlord will probably disagree."

"Stop making her uncomfortable," Aoi chastised him. She was almost halfway through the tub of ice cream before realizing that she'd been eating alone. Grabbing another spoon, she pushed it towards Mikan, "Here, this might help you forget how rude he's been all night."

Natsume, however, wasn't done talking. "How old did you say you were? Twenty?"

"You don't ask a woman's age," Aoi tutted, motioning with her fingers. "And she just turned twenty-one, didn't you? College age? Didn't you ask about the university requirements last time?"

"Yes, but I don't think I'm going- I mean, it'd be nice, just not now."

"Oh. Why? Didn't you finish high school?"

"Aoi," Natsume warned her.

"What?" Aoi dismissed the warning with a scoff. "It's not like what I asked can be as offensive as the things you said to her all evening."

"I did," Mikan assured her- and that Aoi was right, it wasn't an intrusive question. "But I'm saving up for when I find my mom. That's why I went here, to look for her," she added to aid their puzzled faces. "When I was seven, she took me to an orphanage so that they could care for me while she went away. Then she never came back."

"Then how do you know she's alive?" Natsume asked. He received a warning glare and a kick from across the table which he tried to not acknowledge.

"She sends letters. Or, well, she used to, then she stopped… when I went through my things a few months before my eighteenth birthday, I read them again and decided to move back here to find her."

"You went all the way to the city- no money, no food, no prospects?" Natsume snorted. "That sounds like a good idea."

"I was feeling idealistic," she defended, and added only to herself, What a swot. "I went here to try to find her but I hit a dead end. I paid the last of my savings to an investigator but he jetted off with everything I had. That's why my landlord kicked me out."

Aoi's head spun so fast it could've broke, "Did you hear that?"

"Cheap services should've been your warning sign." This was what Narumi always said to Natsume's clients who became victim to swindlers.

"I didn't know at the time, did I?" Mikan almost snapped. While she frequently dealt with rude people, mostly in the person of sleazy or arrogant customers who looked down on service crew, Natsume seemed like a different kind of tactless jerk. "The only authority I've ever talked to was the mayor, and that was only after sending the most scathing email you can write at age twelve about why your orphanage didn't receive the monthly ration."

"You didn't have food?" Aoi almost cried. "No wonder you're so small!"

Mikan's cheeks warmed a little. Across her, Natsume allowed himself a partially obscured snicker. "Uh, I think that's just because my mom is tiny."

This time, the younger one's eyes widened in wonder, "Does she look like you?"

"I think so. I only have a photo, but all the information I had was with that rotten scum of an investigator. I don't think he was even a real one."

"Probably not," Natsume said. "Could be, but you obviously don't pay well so he ran off. Don't look at me like that. It happens."

"But it's unethical!" Aoi gasped in anger. She reached for Natsume's wrist and enclosed it with a tight grip. "You have to help her!"

"Me? I can't just-"

"Really, Aoi, he doesn't need to-"

"Trust me. If anyone can find your mother, they can. Besides, this can be his apology to you. Now, Natsume, what do you say to me skipping class tomorrow and accompanying you guys to Alice?"

The next morning was like a complicated game of security lasers. While Aoi and Mikan went to bed at around three o'clock to rest before coming with Natsume to work, he stayed up to finish packing the rest of his possessions. Under the stairs, on the wall next to his bathroom door, were stacks of corrugated boxes. Natsume hardly had much in his apartment, save for papers, case notes, books, and journals, which were neatly organized on a plastic bin. The rest were appliances- microwave, induction, coffee maker- those sort of things that he couldn't be bothered to repurchase for his move, despite Aoi's insistence of an upgrade on most of his house things. However, because there were a lot of boxes- some still open, since there was still the mezzanine bedroom to do- he had to commit to a single-player lifesize game of Tetris, which involved organizing boxes and bins and making sure there was adequate space towards the bathroom and the kitchen.

The one bedroom apartment was clean and comfortable but as a bachelor pad it only had one of everything- one bedroom, one bathroom, single everything. Since Aoi brought in a suitcase anyway whenever she stayed over, and the couch was a cozy pullout, there was never really an issue about considering additional space- until he bought a house. This proved to be a good idea that morning when three of them bustled in a relatively small space to get ready.

When Mikan got out of the bathroom, hair dripping wet, towel snug tightly under a pair of disposable underwear, she almost tripped on her feet. Not solely because there was minimal space to walk on but because as soon as she opened the door, standing practically in front of her, back turned, was a freshly showered and shirtless Natsume, busy with making coffee.

Mikan mumbled a noncoherent apology (though what she was apologizing for, she didn't really know), prompting him to turn around in question, a piece of bread halfway through his mouth.

His hands automatically reached for the towel around his neck to cover his chest, "I forgot-"

"I left my-" she cleared her throat, "I'll go ahead."

"He's moving?" Mikan asked Aoi in a hushed voice, once she was out of sight upstairs. She didn't have anything fitting for their day plans other than a wrinkled shirt, and unfortunately she only realized this before heading for the bathroom. Aoi agreed to find something for her while Mikan took a shower which was why she had to traipse back upstairs in a towel.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you. He was supposed to move to his new house this weekend, but he got the lease early so he's going to set it up later tonight. I'll probably go back to my parents. You can come with me, if you want, while you try to figure out what to do."

"I might be able to figure something out with my boss," Mikan mused. "I really don't want to wear out my welcome."

"Don't worry about that," Aoi assured her as she set down a modest skirt and a plain collared shirt. "I packed most of my things, and these are the smartest things I have that are clean. I think they'll fit. Otherwise you'd have to wear one of Natsume's shirts and I have to warn you, they're all uncomfortably crisp. It makes anyone look stuck-up."

"Ten minutes!" Natsume called from downstairs. "And I heard that."

Aoi leaned over the railing. "Fifteen! I have to do my makeup!"

"You don't even work there."

"Yeah but Anna told me the paralegal on the eighth floor has a crush on me," Aoi explained with a wicked grin.

Despite the exchange, Aoi was out the door in two minutes, hair combed neatly but her face bare. She led the way to the car parked across the street and threw herself inside the front passenger seat. Natsume knocked on the window with mild annoyance and motioned for her to move to the back, but all Aoi did was show him her makeup purse in response.

Natsume reluctantly moved to the back but opened the door and let Mikan in first- apparently he did have some manners- before coming after her, leaving the driver's seat empty. Neither one of the siblings made a move.

"Err," Mikan said, a tad confused, "What are we waiting for?"

"Driver," Aoi pointed with her left hand, her right hand carefully tracing her eyebrows. "He's leaving his number for when the movers come help him out later to get Natsume's things."

"Do you always have someone driving you around?"

"Not if I can help it," Natsume mumbled.

"Ruka insists," Aoi supplied. She turned around, showing Mikan half of a cat-eye. "Ruka's his best friend and acts more like a mom than our mom. You'll see, later. Speaking of, is he holding a party?"

"Party?" Natsume frowned, briefly tearing his attention away from his workload. "What for?"

"Your housewarming, duh. How could you not know these things? If he's not throwing one, I am. Mikan, you'll come of course."

"I don't-"

"Have anything to wear? I got you. Or better yet, we can buy something later! Natsume's paying, of course. Part of his apology. You don't mind if we borrow your credit card and Oishi, do you, aniki?"

Natsume heaved an exasperated sigh. There were indeed perks to being the youngest sibling, and while Aoi often abused it to its fullest, Natsume never had qualms about giving her what she asked for. "Be back by three, Oishi. I don't want to be charged extra by the movers."

"Are you moving far?" Mikan asked to make conversation, but Aoi was the one who answered her again.

"Bought himself a bungalow on the other end of the city, meaning I don't have his apartment to run to when I don't want my parents to know I stayed past curfew. I think he's trying to get rid of me. Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Ask me one more time and you'll understand."

"You are trying to get rid of me! Is that why you haven't shown me the house even once?"

"You like to talk, don't you?" Mikan had to smother a laugh, but a chatty Aoi meant she'd forget about playing an awkward game of tag while she and Natsume were in towels.

"It's all she ever does, really," Natsume commented dryly. "It's going to be a long day."

And he was right.

They arrived early and in time- not an unattainable feat when you have Oishi on the driver's seat, which was why, despite the reluctance of breaking a few road rules, Natsume preferred his presence. While it was still bright in the day, there were more people in the lobby. Although there were other companies leasing some of the other floors, more than half belonged to either a Hyuuga or an Igarashi, which was why Natsume and Aoi were familiar faces. Narumi walked over to greet them, introduced himself to Mikan, and led them further inside.

They reached the elevators without anyone else directly approaching them until the same employee from the day before asked for the doors held open, folders tucked on his left and a tray of Starbucks coffees on the other. Narumi offered a hand, but the guy simply shook his head and rode the elevator with them.

"This is going to take a while," he apologized to Natsume, though not really remorseful. He eyed Mikan for a moment, who smiled when she saw him looking. He turned back to the lawyer and showed him some of the files. "I found some information regarding those companies who requested you for their loan contracts… these are their backgrounds… the bank's terms of agreement…"

Ding.

"…the paper trail for the Yamamoto case… notes on the criminal prosecution..."

Ding.

"...copy of Tanaka's financial endowment records… proof of the wire transfer…"

Ding.

"...the Ogawa class action lawsuit...the Takeuchi briefs… a note from Ms. Imai…"

Ding.

"…and your usual morning coffee."

Natsume had sent the warning glance at Narumi, who immediately understood and pushed the employee out of the lift, grabbing the files and the coffee. "Thank you, Takagi, we'll see you later."

The doors closed, and Narumi chuckled. Aoi seemed rather amused, but Mikan disapproved. "You know, you could have just asked him to leave."

"That's how it goes," he said curtly. "It makes them want to work hard." The elevator doors opened and they walked out.

"Mr. Hyuuga!" A man he recognized from Estate rounded up a corner, a briefcase dangling in his right hand. On his left was a mobile. "Mr. Nogi's waiting for you in his office." Without saying more, he raised his right to bid and turned his back against them, talking to the person on the other end of his line.

"Oh, goodie," Aoi squealed as they walked towards Ruka's office, around the corner. "I haven't seen Ruka in a while."

When they had finally approached Ruka's white glossy door, Narumi held the door open with a mere roll of his eyes. Aoi had stepped in after Natsume, and Mikan came third, allowing Narumi to close the door behind him.

Mikan looked around the room in awe. A simple bright chandelier lighted the room, illuminating the white glossy ambiance. Paintings on canvases hung on the walls, all carefully painted and obviously gently colored. There was a big sunflower and bee sipping its nectar, a picture of a woman and a child, and a man playing the piano on the wall nearest to her.

"…think that she's comfortable working with Imai?" Natsume was saying, his voice thick with contempt, "The woman's a devil."

"Really? I didn't notice," The unfamiliar voice, while monotonous and sarcastic in tone, snapped Mikan back to reality. She turned her attention away from the mysterious piano-playing man and looked towards the speaker.

Next to Natsume, Ruka Nogi- as it says on his nameplate- glowed in comparison. He has bright blue eyes and pale hair neatly combed back, while everything about Natsume's darker. They both stood in almost similar height, both sported fitted blazers and ties, both looking extremely vexed.

When Ruka noticed her looking, he smiled. Not the toothless, slightly-forced one you give to people you just met, but genuine. "Hello," he said in a friendly voice, "I'm Ruka Nogi. Are you here for an appointment?"

"She's my friend," Aoi stated. She was crouched in front of his desk, playing with a miniature basketball hoop set. "Needs help, too. Her mom's missing."

"Another missing person case?" Ruka complained, but then caught himself. "Sorry 'bout that. Just a joke."

"I didn't get it," Natsume said bluntly, earning a crumpled paper thrown on his head.

"Look," Ruka started, calling Natsume's attention back to business. "I don't think Imai has the capacity to make anyone comfortable but you need to go to this meeting. All the shareholders will be there."

"I'm a litigator, how many times do I need to emphasize that?"

"Probably a bit more, and towards your parents if you please. I'm pretty sure I've noticed you across the hall way too many times to not think you work here," Ruka commented dryly. "Come on, it's two hours- three hours max. I've the rest of the associates participating in a mock trial later. I'm sure Imai can spare an hour to discuss the divorce deposition."

"It's like you want a war to happen," Natsume muttered. "Fine. I'm warning you, though- Hatsuni doesn't adjust well to change, or to other women."

"Then maybe this will be good for her. Don't forget to turn on your fax machine, your mother's sending you notes to go through before the meeting."

"Why can't you do it? Hatsuni will have a better time with you, and I'm saying this in hopefully the least sexual way possible."

Ruka sat back against his seat with a frown. "Workload. Megumi's having complications with the baby almost coming out, so she filed for early maternity leave. I couldn't say no."

Aoi shook her head at him, knowing full well that he meant it. "You're too nice, Ruka. Why are you here?"

"Go," Natsume told her. "My office. Ruka and I have to talk." Once the two girls left the room, Natsume asked Ruka, "Do you think she's working for my mother?"

"Megumi?"

"No, Mikan. The girl with Aoi. What do you think?"

Ruka gaped at his friend, mouth ajar. "You're kidding. You're not? Natsume, that's insane. Your mother doesn't have anything to gain in employing her to- I don't even know what she'd do. Why is she here, anyway? Don't they have class?"

"She doesn't go to school," he responded briefly. "Long story short, she's looking for a parent."

"Dead or alive?"

"Alive, allegedly."

Ruka nodded absently, his attention not really aroused. It wasn't a difficult case. "Seriously, though. When did we know so many missing people?"

"She's currently homeless, too, so I suggest someone helps her out sooner than later. We can call in- who's the recently promoted one? The senior associate?"

"Usami? I think she's one of Andou's."

"Her, then. A little problem- Mikan invested most of her money to a fake private investigator. Maybe find the guy first?"

"Then you need Hoshio. If she's broke, how's she going to pay? I wouldn't mind pro-bono if it were one of mine, but Andou wouldn't let his mentee unless Jinno himself instructed him to."

Natsume didn't think this far, but he made a snap decision. "I'll handle it. Maybe by this time I'd have stopped owing her."

While Aoi often threw casual remarks about her reluctance to work for the firm once she graduates, it wasn't to say she never helped out. As if a regular intern, she spent most of the day running inconsequential errands for Natsume, while Mikan talked to Hoshio in a small conference room regarding the phony private investigator she paid for her mother. Hoshio, a fresh-faced associate of the Ethics Department, with his tapered crew cut and infectious smile, deliberately explained fraud and how they would come against the person of interest. She shared her copy of the engagement letter which technically kept him from suing her if he only did her job, which he didn't. After two hours, Mikan and Hoshio parted with the promise of an update within two days.

With more time to spare, given that Aoi was still working on something in the file room, Mikan wandered and took herself in the office pantry. She exchanged awkward smiles with a couple of employees, aware that she stood out like a sore thumb, and settled for a glass of water and a banana before settling on a corner booth.

She spent these few, precious minutes by herself, until Ruka pulled a seat next to her. He set his coffee down and handed her the other half of his roast chicken sub.

"Mikan, right?" he confirmed with a small smile before taking a bite, the honey mustard lightly smearing the edge of his mouth. "How do you know Aoi?"

Mikan mindfully wiped herself before talking. "She's a regular at the cafe I'm working at."

"Somewhere I know?"

"I don't think so… it's a small one tucked in a residential neighborhood, but Aoi's been coming in for months now."

"You don't have work today? Took a leave for this?"

Mikan frowned. "No… I don't have to report until tomorrow. Are you this nosy?"

He gave her an apologetic smile and leant a bit forward, his elbows resting against the table in what he hoped was a friendlier stance. "Force of habit. And admittedly, a little curious."

She nodded understandably before answering his questions. "I didn't know I was going to be here. I- err, met Natsume in an unconventional manner, then Aoi volunteered him to help me out. I wouldn't have imposed if I knew how many people were going to work on it."

"Don't worry about it. Unconventional?" Ruka brushed his thumb against his chin in thought. "Something to do with his jaw?"

Mikan felt the tips of her ears heat up. "Possibly," she coughed.

He grinned, more at her obvious discomfort than the story. It wasn't everyday a girl hit Natsume, and when someone did, they weren't usually so contrite. "About your mother, how long has she been missing?"

"I- this is going to be a bit weird- but she's not really missing. I just don't know where she is."

"No home address?"

"The letters that she sent me, they were almost a decade ago, and the return address was on a P.O. Box she hasn't renewed. I couldn't afford to look for her and manage a day shift, so I asked a private investigator. You probably know how that ends. He wouldn't return my calls, my emails kept bouncing, and I didn't even know where his office was since we were always at the cafe. Probably didn't even have an office," she added with a scowl.

"So you have nothing to go on with?"

"At the moment, not really. It hasn't been easy getting information about her even though she's my mom, because I don't really have any proof to show."

"Huh. Is that why you were never adopted?"

"I wasn't really up for adoption. She didn't sign the release papers which meant I was just stuck there until- well, until I left."

"And you left to leave or to find her?"

She spared a rueful smile. "I get what you're thinking- probably what that friend of yours thought last time. 'Starry-eyed so-called adult leaves home with no plan, just to prove how independent she is.'"

"I didn't say anything," he protested, though shyly. He did say so to himself.

"You thought about it," she said teasingly. "It's okay. I was foolish. Didn't think it'd be this hard to find your own parent-"

"In a city with a population of nine million?" Ruka joshed. They shared a grin. "What do you think happened?"

Mikan paused, rolling the idea in her mind. "About that… When you've spent two years with no progress, you get some nasty, sometimes far-fetched ideas about reality. I can't even remember her exact words when she left, just that she had to be somewhere. I was thirteen when the letters stopped coming. At first, I thought the worse- that she died. But then, someone would've came for me, to tell me, you know? Halfway through puberty, I hated her for a bit, wondered if she had a new family and didn't want me anymore. There were some theories in between, the sort of thing you discuss at lights out with other kids whose parents also left them. It's comforting, ironically."

"Why are you still looking for her?" Ruka wanted to know. "She left you when you were a kid and just stopped telling you she was still alive. If it were me-"

"You'd look for her, too," Mikan interrupted. "I know why kids end up in the orphanage and why some are in foster care, but I know my mom. She didn't mean it. Otherwise, she'd have handled the necessary paperwork. But if she did, I want her to know that I-" her voice croaked a bit- "Whatever her reasons, I forgive her."

As if it were his own, Noda made himself comfortable on Hotaru's swivel armchair, flipping through some of the case notes neatly piled on her desk. Out of all the senior associates in the firm, Hotaru Imai was the most organized and the hardest-working attorney, and he didn't doubt that she would be the first one to move up the proverbial ladder as junior partner, making her, perhaps, the youngest to ever receive the honor. After all, the probability of a promotion was high in a primarily ageing partner population with a limited pool of successors.

"What are you doing here?"

Noda leaned back flippantly, not even the slightest bit ashamed of being caught snooping through another lawyer's things. "How was your meeting?"

Hotaru walked inside, letting the glass door shut behind her. "You didn't answer my question."

Noda made no move to get up. "My news depends on yours."

"Abysmal but productive. What's yours?"

"Something you already know." Noda tapped his finger against a folder- a recent addition to her stack. He motioned for her to sit. "You haven't followed through the case from yesterday. I thought Jinno made it clear that it's urgent."

"Jinno didn't make it clear to me," she demurred, refusing to sit down. "I'm afraid you have to blame Nogi for not emphasizing just how important it is to find a missing six-year-old."

"Fortunately for you, six-year-old has been found."

Her eyebrows quirked, although of what, Noda wasn't sure. "Good. Then I don't have a case. Do we still have something to discuss?" She reached for the folder anyway for it was terribly mocking her but Noda held it back with an impish grin.

"Yes. You're going to Family Court."

"Really, Aoi," Mikan insisted, pushing the fruit basket back through the window, "You've done enough."

"No, take it," the other demanded, forcing the basket inside. "At least give your mom something. You can say it's from me, to make you feel better."

Mikan smiled at the girl. While only a few years younger, she felt a strong sense of sisterly compassion towards her.

The last four days were the busiest she had been in her life so far. The evening they talked, Hoshio from Ethics informed her of an eerily similar case a lawyer friend was involved in. After casually mentioning his current workload, it turned out they were talking about the same swindler. On the bright side, the fake investigator had a real name: Kagemori Ishida, who had a license before it was revoked due to a handful of fraud charges. Hoshio explained a lot of other things that Mikan didn't understand, but in the end, while the case was going to be taken up to small claims court by the other lawyer, Hoshio managed to get the files that Mikan blindly surrendered to a man who scammed her. She received thrice of what she paid him as compensation and as settlement, and this time, there was a legal contract with corporate bullcrap she actually understood.

Wakako Usami, the associate Natsume instructed to help Mikan, merely scanned the files before managing to get Yuka Sakura's most recent address after tracing five temporary homes. Once she received it, Mikan packed her things from Aoi's room, informed her manager that she was taking two days off, and started plotting a million conversation starters in her mind- the first she'd have with her mother after a long time. Aoi gave her a nice scarf to wear and even helped her out with her eyebrows.

"I wish I met your parents," Mikan said sincerely. "It would've been nice to say thanks for letting me extend my welcome."

Aoi shrugged, her fingers drawing against the half-opened car window. "We probably wouldn't have seen them much, anyway. Every one of us keep to ourselves. I'd want to meet your mom, though, but only once you're willing to share."

"I'll see you soon, I promise."

"I'm not Ken Tarou, Mikan," she said teasingly, "So don't say that unless you mean it. Are you sure you don't want me to drive you instead? I'm going to Natsume's anyway. Kind of sucks you won't be there. Sure I can't change your mind?"

"You don't take rejections well, do you?" Mikan laughed. "You've really done so much for me. From letting me stay to helping me out. Tell your brother he's still a jerk, but that he's a good one."

Aoi grinned and took a step back as the cab roared to life. "I will. Call me?"

"Tonight, if I must!" Mikan promised as the car moved. She pulled her head out and waved bye to her new friend.

"Where to again?" the cab driver asked, and Mikan recited the address. She didn't do it in purpose- she stared at it so much that it was tattooed on her brain already.

Mikan couldn't sit still for the next forty-five minutes; all she thought about was the prospect of finally seeing her mother. Yuka would be surprised to see her daughter come in- but would it be a good surprise or a bad one? Would they still look like each other, Mikan wondered belatedly. Her mind tried to betray her with dark thoughts but she forcefully pushed them back. There was no space for that here.

"Here you are," the man said, pulling the cab to a stop. Mikan peered outside and scanned for the house number. On her right stood a box-style bungalow with black aluminum gates and hard edges. The ceiling was about fifteen feet tall, and from her view she could see a whole wall of glass windows, the interior covered by blinds. It was a beautiful, well-attended home with a trimmed lawn and expansive landscape. The driveway, though, was noticeably empty, and none of the windows gave any sign of a person inside.

"No wonder she left," she whispered to herself.

"Wha'd you say?" asked the man in front. She shook her head with a tense smile and took out her wallet.

She climbed down and thanked the driver, pushing her bag further to her shoulder. The house number gleamed, the doorbell below it urging her. She waited what felt like an eternity before she stopped pressing it.

"Excuse me," she called at the woman sweeping in front of the house next door. "Do you know where the person who lives here could be? Kind of looks like me, but older."

"No one's lived there for a while, dear," the lady said with a frown. "Are you sure you have the right address?"

A sense of dread filled her, the same one she desperately tried to push down earlier while in the car. It was her biggest fear, the possibility that Wakako was wrong: Yuka Sakura didn't live there anymore.

"Mikan?" said a familiar voice behind her. "What are you doing here?"

Author's Note: Seems different? It is! On 1/21/2018 Loved by Law underwent major revision.

I've been particularly attached to LbL because of how much I wanted it to be different from what I used to write. Here, I employed and attempted a genre that I have always been fond of reading but never had the guts to try. However, when I first uploaded this, I was a mere sixteen-year-old: sheltered, inexperienced, and idealistic. While I continued writing this story, it hasn't been easy trying to relate to what my mind has been like from when I was much younger.

To everyone who Loved by Law since it was uploaded- thank you. Your support, criticism, and encouragement despite my hiatus is why I want to make sure I give you guys something better to enjoy, one that's not just about a girl who marries and falls for her polar opposite. And to new readers- should there be any- my sincerest thank you, as well.

As I offer this newly revised version of LbyL, I hope that I satisfy your thirst for quality-written stories of a manga/anime dear to our hearts.

Keep reading,

KM