Disclaimer: I don't own Gakuen Alice.

PLANS AND CURIOSITIES

Death had always been a part of her life.

It had accompanied her ever since she was a young girl, diagnosed with the illness that might as well have been an arranged death-sentence with no date, no warnings, no time frame.

Just the knowledge that each day that the air had filled your lungs was indeed a very fortunate thing. As for Mikan Sakura, it was a fragile existence.

Death's Kiss was no ordinary illness. It would perhaps be fair to say that it was a very serious case of magic the body could no longer contain, possibly hereditary. It had brought damaging effects to the body, and it always, always resulted with death. No one had ever had the hope of surviving.

She had always thought she had been the luckiest girl alive. She had, after all, been the person who had survive the illness the longest. For ten years, she had lived. Yet recently, she could feel Death drawing nearer and knew it was something she could no longer escape. It was a terrifying thought- thinking that it could envelope her until the world drifted away into the blackness that had threatened to conquer her in her dreams.

"I propose a vacation," Hotaru had said. Hotaru always knew the right things to say. She had always been a close part of her life, like another half. It had been a funny thing that they had never shared anything alike, yet had remained so close even after years. The thoughts, Mikan just realized, brought teardrops rolling down her cheeks.

"Not again," she muttered as Mikan pulled her into her arms, gently patting her hair. She had made no effort to conceal an annoyed sigh, which Mikan could not blame her for. She had been breaking down almost constantly as of recent.

As Hotaru comforted her, she could not help but feel a slight tightness in her chest. When Mikan cried, Hotaru thought, she never held anything back, giving everything her best shot. Never had there been a day that came to waste. The moment she had learnt of her illness, she had always asked Hotaru to go out, and later during the day, make her the best inventions. Hotaru didn't know quite what to make of it. She had no idea how she would get rid of those inventions later on… Which, she decided, she would not think about.

"A vacation, Hotaru? Where?" Mikan asked between hiccups.

"To Paris?" she murmured. "I'll be paying for the costs, of course," Hotaru said when Mikan shot her a look of protest.

"I don't know… I'd like to die here," Mikan said, gesturing towards the place weakly. Hotaru knew only too well of her attachment.

The statement brought a spark of anger in her. To hear her best friend speak of death so casually was not something she'd like to hear. Not something she could bear to hear.

"All this thought of death isn't good for you. I already informed your mom."

Her eyes widened briefly. "What good is ignoring it if I know it's coming?" she murmured, her gaze wandering far away.

"It's been ten years, Mikan. It might not even be coming."

"But it is. I feel it. Death is stronger. It's inside me. I can feel it, Hotaru. It's been absent, but It's there. I've been preparing a lot for the day it comes. Each day it feels like I'm closer to it."

"Don't speak like that."

Mikan only continued to gaze away quietly.

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Mikan stared at herself in the mirror, barely able to recognize herself. A nice simple white dress that emphasized her curves and hung above her knees, and her face with only a hint of blush, and the lightest smudge of eye shadow. She had already looked like a completely different person and she was so accustomed to the very height of simplicity that any unfamiliarity became a cause of unsettlement.

"This is completely unnecessary. I don't need to look pretty."

"Nonsense," Sumire let out a snort. "Everyone needs to look pretty. I've seen your closet and your clothing choice is just terrible. Besides, what happens if you find your Prince Charming?"

"Prince Charming does not exist." She had long ceased to believe the existence of a person who was made for her. A woman did not need a man to be happy. True happiness, after all, came from one's self. Destiny was a pretty way of describing one's love life. As it was, she did not have any, nor was she about to make complaints any time soon.

"I'll remember what you said, Mikan. One day you'll be eating your words."

"Not likely."

"Maybe after the trip?" Sumire continued with a grin, as if Mikan had not spoken.

"Drop it."

"Nope," she continued to tease. Then her smile faded. "Damn, I'm going to miss this." She looked at Mikan with pity, it made her want to look away. No. No pity. Please.

She did not know if she could stand any more of the pity. For once, she wanted to be treated like a normal person. She had been one once, and she missed the freedom of it, the normalcy. Now she had neither of those, added with a load of sympathy from others she did not know where to place.

"Hotaru will be coming soon," Sumire said as she checked the screen of her phone. Mikan returned to her bedroom and changed. She would not wear these clothes and make-up. Sumire would have to deal.

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Smooth and efficient. That was what traveling with a wealthy best friend did, and although the expenses had frequently added to her guilt, it had been the constant reminder that death was on its way. For it seemed like the more things Hotaru offered, the closer Mikan was to losing everything.

The car came to a halt. Stepping out of the car and looking up, Mikan only stared.

This was where Hotaru went to on vacation, Mikan thought. As she entered the building, she couldn't grasp the need for such huge, luxurious space when Hotaru hardly came to visit and she had no other siblings.

"Wait here for a bit, I have to talk to my dad."

Mikan nodded once and sat on the nearest couch and scanned the room. If the exterior looked impressive, then the interior was even more so. From the curtains, to the tiled floor to the sparkling chandelier- everything spoke wealth and money.

"Why are you sitting down?"

"Excuse me?" Mikan turned around, and faced a crimson-eyed man, bemused. He looked about her age, standing with an air of self-importance. Mikan was quite sure at that very moment he was the type that women would swoon at on mere sight.

"The curtains," he spoke, voice now filled with a hint of irritation.

"I don't understand."

"Don't you?" he asked with annoyance. "It's fairly simple. You're a maid, the curtains are never this wide open."

Mikan had never felt more insulted. She gave her head a slight turn, but saw that there were no signs of Hotaru. Then she looked back at him. "I'm not a maid," she snapped. She did not care how many girls dropped down to his feet. Or how he could make her heart stutter in a glance. She would not be insulted by him.

He looked surprised.

"Of course you are. Your clothes..." He quickly glanced at her attire, then to her face. Understanding dawned upon him. "I've never seen you here before. You're...?"

"An apology would've been nice," Mikan muttered.

He looked taken aback for a fraction of a second before he responded with a calm voice. "So would an introduction."

"Agreed. You go first."

"You have some nerve, maid?" he said, walking towards her. Already his mask of restrained temper started to show cracks. There was something about the woman that intrigued him.

"I told you. I'm not a maid!" Mikan exclaimed. She had never had such an argument with a complete stranger, but he had insulted her.

"Hyuuga," the familiar voice of her best friend spoke. Mikan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Imai," he said with a nod. "I find your newest one rather disobedient."

He- the nerve! Mikan was instantly filled with rage. It surprised her. She had not felt that way for a long time.

"Hyuuga, another word about my best friend and she'd gladly kill you." Hotaru could already see the way Natsume Hyuuga had gotten under the skin of her best friend. The last thing she wanted was Mikan scowling when they returned from their trip.

"Best friend? I was not even aware you had any guests." The fact startled him. The woman standing in front of him was right- she was not a maid. Not only was she a guest, she was best friends with the ice queen. He had to look out for any tricks the girl might have. He suppressed the urge to retreat a foot. Anyone friends with the ice queen was a force to be reckoned with.

"This special trip was for her. Possibly her last. So I'd appreciate it if you'd find your way out."

He hesitated before uttering a reply.

"Of course." He gave Mikan one last glance before he walked out. In that one brief moment, their stares connected. Mikan's breath caught, and in her surprise, he grinned.

The bastard enjoyed toying with her.

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"Tell me about your encounter," Sumire's excited voice came from the speaker. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the clock right in front of her.

It was one o'clock in the morning, hardly a time for conversation. Mikan yawned and lazily rubbed her eyes.

"Nothing to talk about," came Mikan's sleepy voice.

"Oh no you don't. Tell me."

Mikan groaned. She wanted to sleep, but the sleepiness had been steadily fading.

"Fine. He's arrogant, insulting and rude. He called me a maid and I told him I wasn't. And he… He Still. Kept. Calling me one! And he's-"

"Amazingly sexy?"

Mikan bit her lip.

"Well, there's that."

Sumire snorted. "You forgot to bring the dress I told you about."

"I believe that was a conscious decision."

"But why? The dress-"

"It's just not me, Permy."

"Tell that to your terrible fashion sense. It begs to be improved. But tell me more. What was the first thing he said? Last thing?"

"Why are you sitting down. Of course," Mikan answered from memory.

"But I'm not."

"Not you. Those were his first and last words."

She could already sense the disappointment washing over Sumire as she asked for more details including what he wore, what his eye colour was and other details that seemed unimportant to Mikan. She didn't quite understand the obsession about the man, but apparently, he was very famous. By the time the call had ended, Mikan felt.

Her heart was beating rapidly, her senses so sharp and her mind active.

She felt different, more excited. More alive.

Something about him had struck some part in her that had not been touched for some time. Being closer to Death, she always felt encased in a gold-like protective covering. She had always been protected and sheltered and countless of times even her greatest enemies had been moved with pity. To have someone speak to her as an equal, as a person, it had filled her with inexplicable satisfaction.

And it was such an amazing feeling, such a wonderful feeling that she did not want to let go.

The sensation had frightened her. Had lodged a deeper fear into her. For deep inside, she knew she could not attach herself further to anyone else. Losing anyone else would be double the pain, that at any cost, she had to protect her heart.

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Hotaru slowly opened the front door. Somehow, the sight of Natsume Hyuuga at her doorstep did not surprise her. After yesterday's encounter, she suspected he gained interest at Mikan, who of course, didn't know who she was speaking to. Hyuuga was a family friend who also owned a large company like her family's, and she didn't know of any case of a girl making a heated argument with him. Mikan had done so admirably. But she would be damned if she'd let Hyuuga get near her best friend without so much as a challenge. She knew standing in front of her door was painful enough for someone like him. The thought alone made her smile.

"Why Hyuuga, what brings you to my humble abode?" Hotaru sarcastically asked with a smirk.

"Not sure about 'humble' when you flaunt your crystal collection in the living room. I wish to speak to her."

"Her? Who, Hyuuga? I don't recall talking to you about a woman."

"You know who," he growled in irritation.

"Actually, I don't."

"The mai- er- best friend of yours."

"Ever heard of sleep, Hyuuga? Some people need it."

"I just need a name." The words were bitter on his tongue. He was the Natsume Hyuuga. He did not ask around for girls' names or visit their friend's houses inquiring about them. Girls asked about him, obsessed over him, not the other way round.

"Mikan Sakura," she said. She shut the door in front of him while he stood there, fists clenched.

A/N:

This was one of those chapters that I had always been meaning to post, but never got around to working much on it. I have another one I'd love to write but is sitting on my file folder- has been sitting there for over a year. I don't think I plan to write that anymore, but I couldn't quite make myself delete it. =/

Anyway, I had written this chapter two months ago, but never got around to writing any more chapters until recently and decided I'd like to continue writing this fic. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I enjoyed writing. If you've found it worthwhile, please review. :)

-hurricaneblast