DETENTION: POSTSCRIPT

- CLINIC -

by aniAngelxx

Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice.

A/N. So, yeah. Two-shot. I couldn't resist. Especially after all those amazing reviews you guys gave! So, as a form of thanks, here's Clinic: a Detention Postscript.

Enjoy~

Considering it was a perfect headshot, and that it was a relatively heavy (metal framed) stapler, I'm not really surprised that Natsume fell unconscious after the hit.

I try to even out my erratic breathing and calm down. Nearly 6 years have passed since I first met him and he still riles me up so easily.

Honestly, I don't even know how he does it. He just gets under my skin so easily it makes me want to punch him.

Only after I caught my breath do I finally realize the severity of the situation. Oh god, if the Principal finds out I hit his son on the head with a stapler, I'd be so kicked out. But it isn't like he didn't deserve it . . .

Okay, maybe he didn't deserve a hit to the head . . .

And so, being the hopelessly conscientious human being that I am, I lug (read: drag) his heavy, six feet and four inches of perfectly toned muscle to the nurse's office. Luckily, I manage to catch the nurse just as she's leaving, so after promising to lock up and return the keys to either Natsume or the Principal, she leaves me in charge.

I place an ice pack on his head, guilt gnawing at me at the slight bump on his head. Dragging the wheelie chair beside the bed, I spend the next few minutes waiting for him to come to.

Turns out I only needed that short amount of quiet to fully digest his words. "What's with that look, Hyuuga? Jealous?" "If I say yes?" "Don't tell me you like me!" "You have no idea, Polka Dots."

You have no idea, Polka Dots.

That's practically a yes, right? Right? No! Him? Like me? Impossible! He's done nothing but aggravate me since day one! It just doesn't follow. Besides, how could he like me? Since when did he like me?

"Stop thinking stupid thoughts, Polka. You'll get an aneurism."

I nearly fall off my seat. "Hyuuga! Don't scare me like that! And don't call me Polka!"

He sits up with a groan, catching the ice pack in his hand. "Damn," He winces.

Yes, Guilt, I know. Now shut up. "I'm sorry for hitting you on the head. I didn't mean to."

"...You're not sorry at all for knocking me out with a stapler."

I shrug, "Sure I am. I mean, if I had thought to use my shoe instead, that might've worked too. But, well, you deserved it. I didn't mean for it to land on your head though. Sorry 'bout that." I smile sweetly. He rolls his eyes.

The silence makes me fidget, and think unwanted thoughts.

"Back then . . ." I falter slightly when his eyes lock with mine, startled by the intensity of his gaze. "Back then, you said something . . ."

I blush at his raised brow. "Y-you know, when I said something about you . . . l-liking . . . me . . ."

I see the recognition spark in his eyes, quickly followed by mischief and smugness...and something else entirely I couldn't place.

Ugh, he probably only said that to mess with me. Stupid, naïve Mikan! "N-never mind. Forget about it. I'll just go now-."

He catches my wrist before I get too far. But I lose my balance when he pulls a bit too hard, and end up toppling over him.

"Oof! What the heck was that for?!" I push my head off his hard chest, wrinkling my sore nose. And then realize just what kind of position I've gotten myself into. His free arm had managed to wrap itself around my back, and I couldn't get off of him completely.

Me, on top of him, alone. In the nurse's office. After school hours. Oh god.

"Why are you leaving? Weren't we in the middle of a conversation? You're being rude, Polka Dots."

My jaw drops. I was being rude? He's the one calling me by that perverted nickname, and pulling me suddenly to him! And I was the rude one?!

"Now, where were we? Oh yeah," I don't like the look in his eyes at all. "I'd said something earlier, didn't I?"

"I-I don't know, did you?" I avoid looking at his eyes . . . and stare at his lips instead. Pale pink, and thin. And curled into a smirk. Darn him.

"See something you like, Polka?"

"N-no! No-nothing at all to see!"

Quick, look at something else, Mikan! Uh . . . yes, the button on his shirt! That will do! . . . Come to think of it, his chest is really hard – like a rock! I could almost feel his defined pectorals and abs through his shirt. When exactly did he get this . . . (no better way to word it,) ripped? Then again, the last time we were this close to each other had been years ago . . .

Still . . .

His chest rumbles, and I belatedly realize he's actually laughing. I snap my head up, catching the smile on his face.

A smile. I must've hit his head harder than I thought.

"What's with that look, Polka?" The smile is gone now.

"Will you stop calling me that perverted nickname?! You are such a creep!"

"Says the one who was tracing my chest with her finger."

"I did not!" I can feel my face burn in a massive blush. God. I didn't really do that, did I? Did I?!

"Yes you did. Finally falling for me, little girl?"

"I'm not a little girl!" I slap lightly at his chest. "Yo-You're just too freakishly tall! And no, I'm not falling for you. In your dreams, more likely."

"All the time."

What'd he say?! "What?" I say out loud. He sighs and rubs his face with his hand.

"Do I still have to spell it out for you, idiotic little girl?" He pins me with a glare.

"I like you, Mikan Sakura."

Oh. My. God. What have I done?! I scramble to get off of him. Well, as much as I could, since his arm is still wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Oh my gosh, Natsume, I am sooooo sorryyyy! Why didn't you tell me your head hurt that badly?! Quick, I think we need to take you to the hospital—"

"What are you blabbering about now, you idiot?"

I pause, and eye him closely for a few seconds. His face is scrunched up into that annoyed glare again. Oh sweet relief.

"Oh thank God." I grin at him. "For a moment there, I thought I'd hit you too hard with that stapler and caused you a concussion or brain hemorrhage or something."

His eye twitches. His arm goes slack, so I get back on my feet.

"You were saying such weird stuff back there; you scared me for a moment. Gosh, I almost believed you for a second there." I laugh lightly, "Don't worry, I'll get you some painkillers soon. You're so mean though; you only use my name when you're joking around."

I look at him and notice the unreadable look on his face. What the heck is this jerk thinking now? Without warning, he suddenly bangs his head back on his pillow with a loud, frustrated groan.

"You are such an infuriating thick-skulled idiot!"

"Hey! What's with that all of a sudden?" I do not understand this guy's mood swings; I don't think it's the stapler this time though. Hmph, Weirdo. "You're lucky I have a conscience; otherwise I'd have left you in the hallways with a mountain on your head."

"Here." I slam a bottle of Advil on the bedside table a bit too roughly.

"Don't need it." If I didn't know better, I would've thought he's sulking.

"Right, sure you don't." I roll my eyes. "Just do it, so I can stop feeling guilty."

Pause. Smirk. Uh-oh. "I know something that can appease your guilt."

" . . . I'm not becoming your slave."

"Now why would I wanna do that? You'd be the worst servant ever." I scowl. "No, this one is simple; won't even last a minute."

" . . . Really?"

Smirk. "Kiss the pain away." He points to the small bump on his head.

"What?! What're you, a five-year-old?"

"It's just a peck; what're you, nine? You won't get cooties." He taps on the swollen red bump. Well, that was my fault . . . Plus, it's just a simple peck on the temple. No big; I could totally do this. I'll just go in quick, like the Band-aid thing.

" . . . Fine."

I pause, but he just stares at me blankly. So I lean in and peck the little swollen bump.

I don't exactly know how it happens – it was just so fast. In a snap, his hand plants itself firmly on my head, and he shifts his head so that instead of his forehead, my lips meet with his instead.

Smoosh. Just like that.

I don't think I've ever run so fast in my entire life. But in five minutes, I'm a mile away from the school gates. And all I could think was that I lost my first kiss to my one and only bully.

Meanwhile, Natsume licks his lips, committing to memory the taste and feel of those soft lips against his. That idiot is just too dense for her own good. It was good for fending off competition though . . .

He can't wait for the next detention.

END OF POSTSCRIPT

A/N. You can tell how much fun I had with that XD
So, yeah. Tell me what you think about it? I'm really trying to improve my writing style. And get a move on with my other story. Thanks for reading, everyone! And a big thanks to all those who reviewed and favorited my story! That warms the heart so much. Mwuah!

xSapphirexRosesxFanx : because he's Natsume. LOL. Uhm (shrug) I don't know; he just does? God knows how much a perverted stalker that kid is when it comes to Mikan (runs from certain red-eyed-boy)