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The Break-Up

By ladysosostris

Romance / Drama

Real Thing

She was the only real thing in his life.

No, seriously.

Mikan Sakura was the only real thing in Natsume Hyuuga's life.

'Real thing'? What does that even mean? It meant that, to Natsume Hyuuga, everything in life was dull, meaningless and empty without Mikan Sakura: to him, she was the only person truly tangible in this world, the only existence he cared about more than his own. Life without her was simply Monet without colours: drained away, the flowers wilting, the sky an empty void and the lake motionless.


Natsume did not remember much of his childhood, yet at a young age he was sent to a psychiatrist for his pyromaniac tendencies. All he could remember from his childhood was being alone and hating his neglectful parents. Serena, his psychiatrist, who he had been seeing for over twelve years now, told him every so often that his pyromania stemmed from social issues with his parents, and his deep rooted desire to annihilate them.

As a child, Natsume was horrified to learn of the demons that resided within him. He did not want to become the monster everyone thought he may become, so, he took his therapy seriously and went to all the fire safety and prevention classes Serena had recommended.

Yet sometimes, sometimes, he snaps.

Unsurprisingly, Natsume didn't make any friends in primary or secondary school. He was always alone, and his only consistent company was Serena, who he met every two days after school. The school worried about ‘setting him off’, but Natsume did not step a toe out of line: he diligently did his work, and just kept to himself. No one said it, but it was plain and clear to him that no one really wanted to get close to him. The rumours of his rare but incredibly violent tendencies kept people away.

Yet by the time high school came, Natsume hadn't caused a problem in over two years. Serena was incredibly proud of him. And to his delight, his aunt had just given birth to a little girl, Aoi. He spent most of his time babysitting his little cousin instead of going back home.

He was seventeen. Aoi was two. He was taking her for a short walk in the park near his aunt's. There, he saw Mikan Sakura. It wasn't the first time he had seen her. She too was a student of Alice High; he had seen her in the corridors and thought that he might even have a few classes with her. Mikan Sakura was well-liked by the student population; everyone enjoyed spending time with her and her cheery disposition. People seemed to find her refreshing in high school, as she didn't really seem to care about what other's said: she recognised early on that life was much larger than high school.

Mikan had noticed him and recognised him, to his surprise. She was the one who started a conversation.

"Hey Natsume! And who is this gorgeous little girl?" she had crouched down to pinch Aoi's cheek. She looked back up at him with a sly smile, "Is she yours?"

"No, she's my cousin."

"I was joking, silly!" She looked at Aoi with an amused expression. "Your cousin is so silly."

"Natsu no silly!" Aoi had reprimanded Mikan. "Natsu is my best fwend!"

They got talking, and whilst Aoi was haphazardly throwing mouldy bread to the ducks in the pond with her left hand (Natsume held her right hand) Mikan asked whether he'd be interested to join her and her friends to Central town next Saturday. So, she took his number, and texted him the details.

He met her friends. Luca, Hotaru, Sumire and Shin (more commonly known as Koko). He would meet more of her friends as he got to know her better. But more importantly, as he got to know her better, he started to fall in love with her.

By the time he was eighteen, she was his, and he was hers. He had lived eighteen years without her, but only after he had met her did he feel like he was here for a reason, and not by some one in a trillion chance. He loved her as much as a human could love; she compensated completely for his lonely childhood. The soulful and philosophical voice of her eyes were deeper than the deepest wishing well; the smell of her skin was sweeter than the rain; the sight of her mouth was intensely erotic; the taste of her was simply the elixir and most importantly, the texture of her small but accommodating heart was unbeatable. It was home. Nothing in existence equalled to her.

When did you forget?

But this isn't about how they fell in love. Because they truly did fall in love and it was perfect. Nothing can be said about the perfect.

No, this is about how they broke up.

Nothing is perfect.

All Natsume knew at that moment was that Mikan had just left his one-bedroom flat. She had left him. He felt his breathing suffocating him - no, no, no, this cannot be! how can breathing kill you, no, no, no, this cannot be-he stumbled to the phone. Speed dial 1 was Mikan. Speed dial 2 was Pizza. Speed dial 3 was Serena.

For the first time in four years, Natsume pressed number 3.

"Natsume?" It was past office hour times, but Serena always answered important calls. "Are you alright?"

"Serena. Serena." He fisted his left hand, and beat his chest, hoping it would help his breathing pattern to stabilise. "Serena. I. I. Serena. She's gone."

"Natsume. Do you need someone to come over?" Her voice was forcefully calm: a true mark of a psychiatrist dealing with a raving patient.

"Serena. She left. Me." He felt he was being squeezed by the weight of existence, and by the universe itself.

"Listen to me Natsume. I am going to come over. Don't go and buy cigarettes. I absolutely forbid you to go buy cigarettes right now."

"Okay." he croaked out. He grasped his hair in desperation.

"I'm going to call Luca. I'm going to ask him to go over to yours now. Open the door for him, alright?"

Most of his friends knew about his past difficulties, and knew that he went to therapy every so often. Serena had deemed him to be stable, but Natsume continued to go, as he liked Serena: she was a part of his life. Not to mention, the sessions were more a habit more than anything else. Serena in turn knew a lot about his friends as Natsume often spoke of them.

No more than ten minutes later, Luca charged in Natsume's room (he had the spare key), to find Natsume on his couch, an absolute mess.

Worriedly, Luca swooped down next to him, and rather forcefully pulled him up. "Natsume! What happened?"

When did he forget? When did he forget about how deeply he felt for Mikan? When did he start to take Mikan for granted? When did he stop listening to her?

When did she stop loving him?

Only now that she had left him for the first time did he realise how lonely his world truly was.

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