Disclaimer:
Mai HiME, all its characters and other related indica belong to Sunrise. No profit made, no infringement intended. Furthermore, this fic follows the events of a separate story called Prologue. If you haven't already read that, you're probably going to be horribly confused.

Author's notes:
Holy crap! Anyone even remember this thing by now? o.o

This is the start of my rewrite of A Million Reasons. And when I say 'rewrite', I mean rewrite! Some things from the original story will remain; a lot will change. I'm using the old version (and Prologue; which I may or may not revise at some point) as reference, but that's it. I've gotten to know the characters a lot better in the past 5 years – not to mention grown up a bit more - and the story's presumably going to reflect that rather heavily. Expect a lot less angst, for one thing.

Also, I'd actually promised myself to not post any of this until I was a lot closer to finishing both On Location and Distortion – or at least one of them. But I'm an impatient sort when it comes to this stuff, and since I (obviously) finished the first chapter and have another 14 at least vaguely planned out... what the hell, right? Just don't expect regular updates at this point. The other two are very much my top priorities right now.

Terminology:
Manshon
A more modern type of apartment block, usually built with reinforced concrete.

Enjoy!

Syllogism
Loyalty

The sudden downpour had caught her halfway between her sister's house and her own apartment, and the constant spattering against the surface of her helmet filled her ears with a strange sort of muffled thunder. The slick roads were gleaming beneath the yellow streetlights, reflecting red and white where cars drove past her or vice-versa, and Natsuki pushed the throttle back a little further, trusting the sturdy machine and her own skills to carry her safely home.

Body-suit or not, rain like this always made her skin cold and clammy. But even though the chills were starting to creep up on her, she had a constant, quirky little smile on her lips that she just couldn't shake. And as she took the next corner at a somewhat reasonable speed, she reached out and ran her hand along a series of low branches – scattering the wetness from the green leaves wildly in her wake.

Behind the cover of her helmet, Natsuki laughed softly, and shook her head at herself as she wrapped her gloved fingers back around the handle. It was such a weird feeling.

Soon, the entrance to the underground garage for her apartment complex was coming up on the right, and she slowed to an almost-crawl as she turned and pushed a button, letting the bike roll steadily down the concrete surface and guiding it into her designated parking spot while the heavy gates closed behind her. Seconds later, the helmet was off her head and her fingers folded around its chin-guard, and she used her free hand to tug her hair loose from the jacket as she jogged up the stairs to the ground floor.

The complex was a good-sized, three-story manshon located off the more beaten paths of downtown Fuuka, as well as on the far outskirts of the district the Yukimuras lived in. It had a grand total of six large apartments – two on each floor, with one of the ground floor apartments occupied by the owners and live-in landlords. Both men were friendly, charming, in their late twenties and devastatingly handsome, and as Natsuki shoved open the door to the little lobby area, she almost slammed it headfirst into one of them.

"Ah!" She quickly grabbed the handle and stopped the door from moving any further, her wet boots squeaking on the floor as she skidded to a stop herself. "Sorry!"

Kumamoto Daichi grinned in response and set his hands on his hips. He was the fairer of the pair with pale skin, straight blond hair that shone red under the right light, hazel eyes and a lithely muscled, compact build. He managed to look rumpled all day long – usually sporting a wifebeater and a pair of well-worn jeans, along with a permanent five-o-clock shadow to go with his equally permanent case of bedhead.

"Good evening, Natsuki-san," he greeted her cheerfully. "Did you remember an important paper that you'd previously forgotten, or is there another reason that you're dragging muddy water onto my freshly cleaned floors?"

Natsuki rolled her eyes. One of the major reasons that she'd chosen her current unit when last she'd moved was the easy rapport she'd instantly had with the landlords; Daichi in particular, uneven match though they were. He was incessantly cheerful and forever yanking her proverbial chain, much to his own amusement and Natsuki's chagrin.

"Freshly cleaned with what?" she shot back, and swallowed a smirk as she looked around theatrically. "Dehydrated water?"

The blond man's smile didn't even falter. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" Natsuki slipped past him, ducking under his half-hearted lunge before heading up the stairs to the next level at a fast clip. "You're more of a slob than I am!"

"Lies!" came the cry behind her. "All lies!"

"Yeah, yeah." She grinned and shook her head as she continued her jog up to the first floor, deftly unlocked the door to her own apartment and slipped inside. A corner of the red-painted entryway had been set aside specifically for her motorcycle gear, and Natsuki neatly deposited her boots in the tray set there to catch any rain dripping from them, then stripped out of her jacket and bodysuit and hung those on a set of hooks above the tray to be cleaned more thoroughly later, once they'd dried off somewhat.

That done, she stepped over to the small dresser tucked against one wall next to a tall mirror – it contained nothing but what she'd long since deemed 'chillout' clothes. Stuff she was comfortable in, and that could be pulled on quickly to help her warm up after a clammy drive like the one she'd just come home from, since there was a very strict limit as to what she could wear under her bodysuit without feeling horribly constricted. Her underwear was usually it, really, which was why she always kept a small duffel with a change of clothes in the bike itself.

Well... Natsuki eyed herself in the mirror once she'd finished dressing, and took in the well-worn, black cargo shorts and the deep red t-shirt she'd selected with a faint, wry twist of her mouth. A change of clothes she'd usually wear in public, anyway.

Now suitably attired for an evening in by herself, she claimed the small stack of mail from the end table by the door, and felt the hardwood floor of the entryway change to the the soft, gray carpet of the living room beneath her bare feet as she walked. She made a sharp right turn almost the second she entered the room – spinning around to pass through the doorway into the large kitchen with its heated floor tiles, deep green walls, wooden cupboards, stainless steel appliances and white countertops.

"You may already be a winner," she muttered as she walked; reading aloud from the front of the topmost envelope. "Right." A flick of her wrist, and the unwanted piece of mail went spinning through the air and neatly into a recycling bin in the far corner. "Claim your free prize now." Pause. "Ah, there's the asterisk." Flick, swish, and just before the soft 'plop' of landing, the faint suction of the fridge door being opened. "Save the planet." A soft bump as she booted the refrigerator shut again with the heel of one foot, followed by a wry snort, and another piece of snail-mail turned airborne. "Been there, done that."

Natsuki set down the bottle she'd grabbed, then ignored the nearby dining table and its four chairs entirely - instead hoisting herself onto the counter and extending her bare legs out along the pale stone before re-securing her drink and popping it open. She sucked at the tangy juice as she leaned back against the wall and studied the remaining two pieces of mail resting in her lap. One was recent; having been retrieved from her mailbox in the lobby earlier that day when she'd been home for a brief stint, and the insignia for Fuuka University in the top corner gave her a pretty good guess as to its contents.

She set that letter aside, and instead focused on the final envelope.

This letter was older. It had been sitting by her front door for well over a week now, and had in all honesty come close to being opened several times. Each time, however, she'd changed her mind and left it as it was; still smarting somewhat from the sting of abandonment, as well as the curious feeling of rejection at not being contacted at all for seven years by someone who had once proclaimed to care very deeply for her.

The handwriting, Natsuki reflected as she studied the penmanship that made up her own name and address – and where had she gotten that? - was as familiar to her as her own, even though she hadn't seen a recent example of it in years. It had changed in that time, but in far more subtle ways than her own had. It was steadier somehow – the script elongated and flowing. Elegant, but subtly so.

Not unlike the writer, she supposed as she carefully worked the letter open, unearthed the single sheet of paper within and – with a slow, expelled breath – started to read.

Dear Natsuki

Firstly, I would like to apologize for not attempting to reach you sooner than this. While I realize that you were probably hurt by my sudden departure, I cannot in good conscience apologize for that. I needed that time away from you in order to learn how to simply be your friend – believe me, the decision wasn't a simple one, but it was, in the end, the right one. I cannot truly apologize for leaving without telling you, either, because had I told you, it would have taken nothing more than a single indication of sadness on your part to make me cast away my plans entirely.

I hope you can understand why I took the measures that I did, and that you can forgive me. I truly never wanted to hurt you, although I did realize that my actions would do exactly that. I also promised myself that I would not attempt to seek you out in any way unless you attempted to reach me first. That might have been a bad choice, because I do know how stubborn you are.

However, life's whims have now twined to decisively end my self-imposed isolation from you, and I have every intention of going along with them. Having completed my education last year, I've now been appointed as the new head of the Fuuka offices – something you'll undoubtedly hear of soon, if you haven't already. The family name tends to come with a fair bit of notoriety, unfortunately.

Unless there are any last-minute changes, it looks as if I'll be returning to Fuuka in the first week of April. My personal number is listed below, in case you would prefer to call or text me before meeting again.

If you would prefer not to meet at all, I would understand that. Should I not hear from you before the start of May, I'll take that to be the case.

I do hope that you've missed me as well, though. I won't apologize for that, either.

Yours,
Shizuru

Natsuki let the hand holding the paper fall into her lap with a sigh. "Idiotic woman," she grumbled; pausing to take another mouthful of juice. "Of course I missed you," she muttered, and let her eyes skim the letter once more. It was only a few paragraphs long, of course, and barely took up the single page it had been meticulously penned onto, but all the same, it managed to speak volumes. Not so much in terms of the explanations and apologies it attempted to offer; those were obvious enough to the naked eye and – in regards to Shizuru's explanation for leaving – in other ways as well. While Natsuki wasn't shy about admitting that she could be focused to the point of being downright thick-headed, she had figured out the reason for her friend's departure.

Eventually, anyway, she mused. For a good long while after it happened, she'd been too hurt and angry to give much thought to the cause, but still, she'd come to understand, if not exactly agree.

No, what this letter spoke volumes about – at least to her – was in how Shizuru had... changed? She batted that word around her head idly as she considered it. Well, there was definitely a far more serious tone to the missive than what she was used to, and certainly, the years that had passed had changed her so much that she barely recognized her 17-year old self on the occasions that she did have the reason or inclination to look back.

"What an asshole I was," she told the ceiling dryly. "If I met myself now, I'd kick my butt from one end of campus to the other."

Alright, so Shizuru had probably changed as well, but... Natsuki studied the paper in her hand again, and felt a thoughtful little furrow form between her brows. Somehow, the general impression she was getting from reading between the lines was more one of a shield. A guard, rather than the massive change that the actual words suggested. Hardly surprising, she decided as she re-read the last few lines. If Shizuru was halfway convinced that her attempt at bridging the old gap between them was unwanted, then it would make sense for her to play her cards close to her chest – especially since it would also put significantly less pressure on Natsuki herself.

"Still looking out for me, huh?" The cool, ribbed glass of the juice bottle slid against her skin as she let it sway lightly back and forth in the grasp of two fingers, and her gaze dropped to the telephone number listed beneath Shizuru's signature.

Call? she wondered, only to shake her head after a glance towards the digital clock on the microwave revealed a cheerful 23:31. Way too late to call on a weekday; especially if Shizuru had a cross-country move to organize.

Natsuki carefully folded the letter and set it down on the counter next to her hip; deciding to look into what lay within the other envelope for now. She was fairly sure it had to do with the work-experience that would be part and parcel of her final year in university. Those of her yearmates who had been selected for a similar treatment had started theirs already, but her assigned guidance counselor had found it a bit of a challenge to find somewhere to place her. Not because positions weren't available, but because Professor Kamiizumi Minako was being terribly exacting in her behalf.

"You were never meant to row the boat, Kuga-san," she'd told her at the start of their acquaintance – shortly after Natsuki had come under her proverbial wing as she embarked on earning her graduate diploma. "You don't belong in the labs. Oh, you'd know what to do there and you'd do a fine job, but you would be bored out of your mind in less than a week. No, you're supposed to steer the boat – rock it, if that's what it takes. You are not a follower. You are a leader."

She still wasn't entirely convinced about that, honestly, but Kamiizumi-sensei was known for setting her expectations for her students high, but never too high. So Natsuki had agreed to at least give it a try, provided that the older woman could find somewhere to place her that would expose her chiefly to the managerial side of things. It was unorthodox to say the least, and would probably require an inordinate amount of string-pulling.

Given the thickness of the envelope she now held, however, she decided that one of the strings had returned a nibble, and worked it open with one fingertip before extracting the papers within.

Natsuki skimmed through the short, typed letter from her professor that confirmed her guess before setting it aside, and then focused on the papers that gave a short description of the company she'd be working for. It took all of one second of reading before she started laughing helplessly.

Immediate supervisor: Fujino Shizuru, CEO

To her, that was a particularly entertaining bit of irony, and she let her amusement dwindle down to a chuckle as she leafed through the papers that detailed everything from what days and hours she was expected to work to the company dress code. It was a good thing that she was looking forward to seeing her old friend; had she been dreading it, undecided or downright unwilling, this would have ended up being a huge complication. As it was, she found herself wondering chiefly if Shizuru knew about this, and after a few moments of consideration, deciding that she was probably too busy getting acquainted with her new responsibilities and shifting her life from Kyoto back to Fuuka to worry about such trivial things as... she flicked a few pages back to find the title that had been assigned to her own position... an assistant.

Should she tell her? Natsuki paused in her perusal to regard the plain ceiling once more, and ended up shaking her head even as a smile pulled at her lips. No. Shizuru had spent far too much time enjoying how flabbergasted Natsuki herself could get back during their school days – this was a prime chance to return the favor, and she was absolutely going to take it.

A few more flicks through the stack of papers, and she arrived at the last page. She read it carefully, and noted that even if she herself agreed to take on the position, her appointment would depend entirely on the outcome of an interview with her immediate supervisor, who would have the final say in whether or not she seemed suitable to spend the better part of her final year filling a job she essentially had no idea how to do.

She could definitely feel at least half a dozen butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach at that thought. It wouldn't be easy by any stretch of the imagination; at least during the first few weeks, she was sure she'd have so much new information pushed into her head that she'd feel like it was about to burst at the end of the day. But aside from the enjoyable mental image of surprising the hell out of Shizuru, the position itself spoke to the ambitious side of her, and to say that she was intrigued by the responsibilities offered would be an understatement.

Natsuki twisted herself around until her legs were hanging off the side of the counter, then set her palms against the pale stone and pushed herself off to land with a little hop on the floor tiles. She set the papers down, blindly reached for - and secured – a pen, and signed on the proverbial, dotted line with a smirk. Another quick investigation of the envelope the papers had arrived in revealed a spare one – folded in half so it would fit and already addressed to her counselor – and she settled the final page into it and sealed it with a faint hint of permanence.

A good kind, thankfully, she considered as she then pulled her cellphone from the pocket of her shorts and added Shizuru's number to her short list of contacts. She studied the result for a while, and tilted her head faintly in thought. It was definitely too late for calling, yes. But a text couldn't hurt, could it?

A few flicks of her thumb against the sensitive touch-screen, and she was presented with the messaging display. I look forward to seeing you, she ended up typing in after several other, deleted attempts, and almost tapped the Send button when another thought tickled the back of her mind and made her pause. Any specific idea when you're arriving? -N

Surprisingly, the phone pinged from its resting place on the counter after only the time it took her to drain her juice and dispose of the bottle, and she grabbed it and twirled it in her hand so the screen was right-side-up. Was Shizuru even awake at this hour?

Apparently so.

Fujino Shizuru - 11:49 PM:
Natsuki is up very late for a school night – is she planning on sleeping in class again? My flight is late in the afternoon on the 7th. Would you be willing to meet up on the 8th?

Green eyes rolled even as a faint grin tugged at the corners of Natsuki's lips at the teasing tone that she could almost hear. Now she was definitely convinced that the style of the letter had been what it was due to worry on Shizuru's part. One amiable text message from her later, and the resulting reply sounded far more like what she remembered. Not to mention she'd managed to secure the information she wanted, and apparently without Shizuru being any the wiser. Live and learn, indeed.

"The seventh," she muttered to herself, switching from her messages to her calender. "A Saturday, huh?" That only left the arrival time to be defined, and she tapped her way into the phone's internet browser and started a search for flights from Kansai International to Fuuka on that date, then left that to run its course as she flicked back into her messages.

If you think I have time to sleep in class, you've obviously been out of university for too long, she sent back. But I probably should hit the hay. See you on the 8th.

:) See you then.

She smiled back at the message before closing that window and returning to the search. It was surprisingly easy to figure out what time Shizuru's flight was likely to arrive, since there were only two planes departing from Kansai with Fuuka as their destination at any time after noon. So, she determined, her old friend would probably be arriving at around 5 PM after barely an hour and a half of transit.

Natsuki switched back to her text messaging screen once more, although this time the recipient was her older sister. Akiko, she knew, was doubtlessly sleeping at this point, so she wasn't expecting a reply until the following morning, at the earliest.

Still, she thumbed out a brief missive, and sent it.

Any chance I can borrow your car on April 7?