One Day in Heaven
~celestielle~

full summary. When Kouzuki Miyu, in a supposed-to-be-all-girls'-night-out-turned-HUGE-disaster, suddenly falls victim to a stupid game of One Day in Heaven (or more appropriately, in HELL) and gets locked inside a beach resort room for twenty-four hours, she thought that it was the worst thing that befell her all summer—until she found out that she was to be locked with her arch-nemesis, no less! Now an unwilling player in a game that boasts of a 100-percent success rate, will she be able to last, especially if her mortal enemy is no other than drop-dead irresistible Saionji Kanata? Or can a little champagne, some pumpkin chips, a game of Twenty Questions, and twenty-four hours together change things forever?

disclaimer. Daa! Daa! Daa! belongs to Kawamura Mika-sensei. I only absolutely love playing with her adorable characters. Also, the premise (two persons are locked inside a room because of a game planned by their friends and they play Twenty Questions) does not belong to me.

author's note. This fan fiction was inspired by a one-act play that won a literary award here in the Philippines. Of course, by saying that this was inspired by the said literary piece, similarities here and there may be found (but more differences, I assure you). I tried my best to be extra-careful while writing this, so I hope there won't be any more complaints. Review after reading, please! :)


Her


I don't believe it.

I'm Kouzuki Miyu, gorgeously-blonde-and-ready-to-be-tanned, but, lo and behold.

I'm stuck.

Well, I'm stuck inside a beach resort room (but an extremely gorgeous one at that—no exaggeration) for twenty-four hours, AND with the last person I want to be stuck in an extremely gorgeous beach resort room with. Needless to say, this fact makes me feel just great… great, as in, "I-am-going-to-murder-whoever-started-this-stupidity" great. And, of course, I am currently enjoying this as much as I enjoy eating cow's eyeballs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus snacks in between. Oh, yeah. Those cow's eyeballs at those endless Fear Factor replays.

Translation: I'd choose being humiliated on international television while desperately trying not to throw up cow's eyeballs and super-giant cockroaches or while tiptoeing on thin planks of wood at a 500-feet altitude over watching all my dignity disappear into thin air while being stuck inside a room for twenty-four hours with someone like Saionji Kanata the Great… or rather, with Saionji Kanata the Great himself.

"Oi, Kouzuki."

That 'Oi, Kouzuki'? Only His Royal Jerkness (H.R.J.) Saionji Kanata has the powerful, powerful demonic power to annoy me with only two very short words coming out of his evil, evil mouth. Damnations to His Royal Jerkness, the Spawn of Satan! Nobody could ever do that but him. Ah, the power.

"Hey, why are you stomping around like that? Please stay put for one second, Kouzuki. You've done nothing for twelve hours except stomping around." H.R.J. called out from the queen-sized bed (repeat: QUEEN-SIZED bed), which is where I should be comfortably sleeping on tonight, rather than what I ended up with.

Clue #1: Wood. (Very shiny and almost too-floor waxed, but no, it's still w-o-o-d, okay? And it's never soft and cuddly and warm.) Clue #2: Mice. (Gorgeous five-star-hotel-like rooms like these probably don't have any, but we can never be so sure.) Clue #3: Cockroaches. (Please, oh dear God, NOOOOO.)

Just look at that pretty white comforter that's practically shining with divine softness! And those fat white pillows that look just as heavenly! And that—AAARGH, just stop looking at the freaking bed, Miyu. But behold, Saionji-sama is now enjoying his throne while reading some stupid comic book, with headphones wrapped all around his big, ugly head. Oh yes, he's acting like a proper gentleman right now.

HAH. I wish. I've only just realized that chivalry does only belong to the Middle Ages. Those crazy Kanata fangirls should think again about The Jerk being their—what do they call him again?—"knight in shining armor". The label doesn't fit H.R.J. At all.

"I. Am. Not. Stomping. Around!" I shot back through gritted teeth, trying not to scream too loud. "And absolutely never will I stay put until I find those spare bed sheets!"

Because I am not going to survive for the remaining twelve hours in this inferno if I don't get them safely into my hands. They HAVE to be hidden in here SOMEWHERE! I can practically FEEL them. But where the heck are they??

He lifted one side of his headphones above his ear, glanced at me briefly, popped the headphones back on, and then went to stick his head right back between the book pages once more. "Looking for bed sheets under the bed and inside the fridge," he said sarcastically. "Yeah, sure."

See how I'd never even want to be seen dead with him? Granted, he's cute. Or hot. Whichever. Who in Heiomachi Daigaku didn't know him, who has been voted as the university's Favorite Bishounen for four years straight? But just look at him. He doesn't even care a bit that he's going to enjoy the soft mattress, the comforter, and the fluffy pillows (!!) for one whole day while I'm going to have to be satisfied with the unfriendly floor, the spare bed sheets—if I ever find them—and some dust bunnies.

Dust bunnies. I forgot all about the dust bunnies. OH MY LORD.

That sarcastic, arrogant jerk will be DEAD. Wait till I find where that knife is hiding at, and it's very much hasta la vista, baby.

"Why are you even looking for bed sheets, anyway?" he asked in an entirely deadpan tone, not looking up from the comic book he was reading.

I stuck my head out of the bathroom door and threw him a glare. "Are you really that dense or you're just being deliberately insensitive?" I snapped back loudly, hoping my voice would be able to overpower whatever band is playing on the CD. "I'm trying to find myself something to sleep on, because Saionji-sama is completely considerate to let me have the floor, the mice, the cockroaches, AND the dust bunnies!"

HEAR ALL THE FREAKING SARCASM, HEARTLESS EVIL JERK.

Finally, after a few moments of what seemed like surprise, he looked up to me. And then he laughed.

It was as if he first saw lightning strike the same place twice. And then witnessed someone levitate 200 feet above the ground. Or maybe it was like seeing lightning strike the same place twice when Paris Hilton wins an Academy Award and then levitates 200 feet above the ground.

Or was I that gifted in the comedy department??

I stepped out from the bathroom completely, still not able to decide whether I should feel proud for the compliment or if I should feel just plain insulted, to find him trying to stifle his laughs and placing his manga and CD player on top of the small table beside the bed.

I put my hands angrily on either side of my waist. "And what the hell are you laughing at?!"

"Um," he started, obviously trying to look and sound serious but failing miserably, "let me remind you that it was you who chose to look for spare bed sheets inside the fridge, under the bed, and—this just in!—inside the bathroom before I could even offer to take the floor, and yeah, plus the creatures you have in mind."

Very funny, ha ha. As if he really had some tiny speck of kindness in him to do that—offer to take the floor? I'd rather believe that Tyrannosaurus Rexes still exist. Or that Pluto will swap orbits with Mercury. Or that some aliens came to visit the Earth and abducted the real Saionji Kanata, taking him with them to their far, far planet in a faraway galaxy. (Hallelujah!) Would I believe Saionji would do that? Never in a zillion light-years.

"And my serious predicament was what made you laugh like an insane monkey?"

He gave me an easy-going grin. "Nah, it's just funny that you actually look irresistibly cute when you're mad."

All my blood rushed to my face. I couldn't open my mouth to argue. Not with the boyish grin.

"Now let's stop the mini-scavenger hunt and the stomping around so as not to destroy the room, okay?"

Hey, even though he called me "irresistibly cute"—whatever he means by that—I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE UP!

"And what do you expect me to do?" I replied grumpily, wishing my cheeks to cool down even a few degrees. "Sleep on that bed with YOU?"

Craziness. Utter craziness. I'm not that desperate for that.

He looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes and an equally-mischievous smirk, and then, in a tone of voice that scared the wits out of me, he said, "I don't see any reason for you to hesitate."

I am sooo not going to enjoy this vacation. We're at the beach, and we're supposed to enjoy ourselves for two days and one night. It was supposed to be a group outing with all of my friends to celebrate our college graduation and the start of our life of freedom. But where's the freaking freedom now? We're stuck in this room together. No swimming. No sunbathing. No picnic mats and large umbrellas on the shore. No looking at beach hotties in sexy swimming trunks. Nada, nada, nada!

I expected something better. Like a romantic summer fling with a cute lifeguard. I was originally planning to fake drowning so some lifeguard with the washboard abs, the tanned skin, and the perfectly-chiseled chest would come running towards the waves just to rescue me. Or at least some cute guy walking around and happening to catch sight of an "irresistibly cute" girl drowning. Never mind that I'm the three-time champion of the annual swimming competitions back in high school. The hot lifeguards surely wouldn't notice, right?

But that will never happen now. Summer vacation is supposed to be the season of love stories coming to life, but my lifelong dream of seeing Baywatch biceps, Baywatch washboard abs, and Baywatch hands up close is going to be just a dream and forever a fairytale with me stuck here. NO LIFEGUARD SUMMER LOVE!

If I'd known that this is what's going to happen to my supposed-to-be amazing vacation, I would've just left behind this cute bathing suit I especially bought yesterday. Or I wouldn't have bought it in the first place. Now it's just going to rot bad and forgotten inside my bag. For twenty-four hours. Which is, essentially, most of our beach vacation. If only I knew that THIS is how it would turn out to be.

Firstly, I found out that it wasn't just me, Aya, Nanami, Christine, and the rest of the girls. Those evil traitors invited almost all of the boys in the class as well. This can only mean that they also invited the Saionji Kanata to come along. And this can only mean "hell". Our all-female night out—with the summer flings—was ruined.

And secondly, we were all just grouping for roommates this morning when Santa suddenly came up in front of the group with this silly pink box, suggesting that we play a game, where the ones whose names will come up in that name lottery will stay locked together inside a room for twenty-four hours. I thought it was seriously funny, having to just sit there doing nothing and only wait for your meals delivered at your door when it's time to eat, just like prisoners.

Boy, was I ever wrong. As of now, I have been locked with His Royal Jerkness in this room for about twelve hours. And it isn't anywhere near funny.

I sighed and declared in a serious tone, "I'd rather sleep on the floor than with you."

"Oh, no need to be shy," he patted the space on the bed beside him. "Come on. I worry more about you raping me than the other way around."

What?!

I wordlessly shot him a cold glare.

"A joke, Kouzuki. I thought you'd be able to know one when you hear one."

I continued to glare at him.

He held up both hands as if to defend himself. "Oh, I forgot. Girls want their personal space. So how about folding this and placing it at the middle of the bed as a makeshift divider—"

WHAT?!

"Hold oooon." A huge frown knitted my eyebrows together as he held up a perfectly-folded white sheet in his hands. "You didn't tell me that the spare bed sheet was with you ALL ALONG! And I was looking for it EVERYWHERE, you evil… heartless… jerk!"

He only looked at me oh-so-innocently, cute puppy-dog-eyes put into use, making me almost want to swoon with delight (God, I love puppies. A million more damnations to Saionji Kanata!), "Well, I never heard you ask."

Although I found it pretty hard to push the thought of the cute puppies into the back of my brain, I found it only too easy to shoot him another flaming glare. No wonder. I've spent my entire life glaring at this moron. And that's because we've forever been next-door neighbors AND seatmates since FIFTH GRADE until who-knows-when! AND our moms have known each other since they were in high school, so I think it's more appropriate to say that he was destined to be my arch-enemy even before we were fetuses.

And please. More eyelash-flapping and you'll be more than dead, Saionji Kanata. I'll make sure you can't even reincarnate as a cockroach. And I hate cockroaches, so that only means that you CAN'T make me swoon with any eyelash-flapping with your soon-to-be cockroach eyes.

"As I was saying," he continued nonchalantly, as if my anger wasn't too important at all, "how about we use this as a makeshift divider so you'd have your own private space as you like? And you're even welcome to use the pillows for a pillow-fence, too. Would you feel safe with that?"

I thought silently for a second and looked at him suspiciously. So if I share a bed with him, I get to enjoy the heavenly feeling of that baby blue softness! And it's only one night. And there are pillows and blankets dividing the bed. God, how could I resist such temptation like that? It's wrong. It's VERY wrong. Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in—

"Um… I guess…"

I should kill myself.

"Good." He smiled and patted the space beside him again. "Now stop stomping around like a monster and sit here with me, all right?"

"I wasn't stomping around," I said as I cautiously sat down on the other half of the bed, careful not to get too close to him. "And I wasn't acting like a monster," I added in a weak, almost inaudible whisper.

He ignored what I said and asked with another of his smiles, "Better now?"

No, this is the worst!, Miyu's Liar Brain (MLB) yelled.

Yes, perfectly better, Miyu's Honest Brain (MHB) confirmed at the same time.

Heavens, what is happening to me?? I should really kill myself. Hand me a shotgun.

I managed to not say anything amidst all of the foolish debating sides inside my head. I opted to only give him another short glare and, while deliberately avoiding his eyes, a silent nod.

"Great." From my peripheral vision, I saw him grin.

He has to stop doing that or I'm going to involuntarily MELT. Why does he have such a nice smile? It won him four straight Favorite Campus Bishounen awards. And he's now smiling at me. Who am I to get such smile? He has millions of beautiful girls to choose from. I was never in his league. Oh man, why am I thinking about this?? Wait, no. This is MLB thinking, not MHB. Right? So calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

I slowly shifted my gaze onto him. He was starting to divide the pillows for the two of us, placing two between us. Suddenly, I couldn't help but think about how it would feel to be stared at with those amber eyes. They have always been gentle and intense at the same time. They were… nice to look at. It was silly. There's nothing about Saionji that strike me as homey or comfortable or soothing.

Before I knew it, I was already staring at him like a huge idiot. He stopped what he's been doing and then looked straight at me.

"What? Is there a second nose growing on my chin, Kouzuki?"

Pure silence.

Think, Miyu, think. T-H-I-N-K! One plus one equals two… two plus to equals four… four plus four equals… ARGHHH! What's four plus four again?? Nooo, wait. One sheep… three sheep… five sheep… seven sheep…

"Oh. N-no. It's nothing." I froze dead like an iceberg floating in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. "I was just… uh, admiring the view?"

Now I'm perfectly sure that I want to kill myself. Why did that come out of my mouth? Why do I suck at lying?? I was supposed to say, 'I was just thinking about who this guy is and where he hid the real Saionji.' Yes. Disappear into thin air, Kouzuki Miyu. Like what your dignity did.

Kouzuki Miyu's dignity: -1000.

Saionji Kanata's ego: 1000+.

So I added, "Don't flatter yourself, Saionji. I was just…" I suddenly noticed the beautiful full moon outside the window, brightening up the already black skies. "…looking out outside the window behind you. See? The full moon's beautiful, and, uh… I can't help it. You can only see one each month." Oh, great. I'm taking after my parents now. I can feel it. NASA is calling me. I'm evolving into a nerd!

"Sure, whatever." He snickered while I silently repeated prayers for protection inside my head. Oh God, I need to disappear. Seriously. Has anybody seen a bottle of sleeping pills around?

"Those traitors," he then muttered, interrupting my suicidal thoughts. "I'm sure all of them are partying somewhere outside," he sighed. "Dancing in the moonlight… Everybody's feeling warm and bright… It's such a fine and natural sight… Everybody's dancing in the moonlight…"

That did it. That made it harder to believe that this is the real Saionji Kanata. A semi-singing/humming Saionji Kanata is in front of me. I held back a laugh, and it came out as a snort. "Huh. I know that song. You have zero originality."

"But the point is, while we're here without anything to do, they're out there celebrating." He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "Who the hell planned this stupid thing anyway? Doesn't have any sense of what's fair and what's not."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Hey, you and the boys were the ones who invented this what-you-call it game. Maybe you planned this."

"And why would I intentionally lock myself inside a room with you?"

Oh, because I'm not a cheerleader or something? Poor thing, you must be really disappointed because I don't do back flips and I certainly don't want to be thrown into midair. And you must be really expecting to be stuck inside a room with someone who has a bigger bust size. Sorry, Saionji, but you'd have to bear with average-sized me. So I'm definitely out of your league. WHO CARES?

"Easy. To annoy the hell out of me."

"Good guess, but even so, I'm visiting the beach to celebrate freedom, not so I could lock myself inside a room with you just so I could annoy the hell out of you. I didn't travel to the other side of the country only to make myself prisoner, you know."

Ditto. Oh God, DITTO! So yeah, he makes sense. And if ever he really wanted to be locked with someone, then I wouldn't be his first choice, right? Makes sense, makes sense.

"I love to annoy the hell out of you, though." He grinned again.

KILL. KILL. KILL. Murderous thoughts. Murderous thoughts. More murderous thoughts.

He let himself fall back on the bed and covered his eyes with one arm. "But who knew I'd someday be a victim of a game I helped create?" He sighed.

"And you started this stupidity because…?"

"Hey, it's not stupidity. We just wanted to get Santa and Akane to confess to each other since it was already our high school graduation and they don't seem to be able to do it without someone's help. So we thought of playing a crazy name-lottery. The ones whose name gets drawn should be locked inside a room with each other for twenty-four hours, and then we'll see what happens. But to make sure they are the ones who get locked in, we only wrote 'Santa' and 'Akane' on all the papers for the lottery."

WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.

That doesn't feel right.

What he just said suddenly made everything lose sense.

"So tell me. What am I doing here right now with you?"

There are only two possible reasons that I could think of. If Saionji is saying the truth and he has got nothing to do with all this…

One reason is that the boys think I am in love with Saionji.

Another reason is that the boys think he is in love with me.

Either reason would lead them to decide that they'd have to intervene.

But the problem is that NEITHER of the two is TRUE.

Then why the hell am I here??

He removed his arm that was covering both of his eyes and then looked at me. One corner of his lips curved slightly upward, forming a naughty smirk, which, if only it did not belong to His Royal Jerkness, I would think is inevitably knee-buckling cute. "Am I maybe right that you're now thinking that I'm in love with you?"

I almost wanted to kick him dead on the groin. "And are you perhaps thinking that I'm in love with you? Don't mess with me, Saionji. You know that both of my parents work at NASA, and they can—"

"What, they can throw me off to space so I can be hit by a giant comet near the Asteroid Belt?" He grinned sheepishly.

"Why not? I'd make them throw you out to the Andromeda Galaxy so I could be spared of being stuck in a room with you!"

"Would you really want that?" he smirked. "You know, there are only two possibilities behind all this. One is that this is all planned, and the other one is that this is purely random and coincidental. But knowing those idiots, I have no doubt that this is deliberate. Which leads us to only two reasons why they'd purposely do this to us—it's either they think that I'm in love with you—" he pretends to consider the possibility, "—or they think that you're in love with me."

I could only stare at him in shock.

"Which one do you think it is?" he teased me.

I couldn't help but blush.

"Saionji, think again. They probably think that we hate each other, so they'd have to do something so World War 3 wouldn't commence. Too bad, they're going to fail."

He shrugged. "Did you realize," he started, placing one elbow against the bed and resting his chin on his palm, "that because of 'One Day in Heaven', Santa and Akane are now the prime examples of a happily-ever-after ending?"

I frowned to mask my apparent sudden nervousness. "Of course. You lock hormonal eighteen-year-olds who are obviously in love with each other inside a room for twenty-four hours. They'd have to be asexual if they don't feel anything at all."

"So," he dropped his voice into a low, husky tone, "what do you think you and I are?"

"Definitely asexual."

"Are you sure?"

"We don't get along at all. So it's totally impossible to… to…"

Why can't I say it?? I must be coming down to something. Really. I suddenly get all nervous whenever he looked my way and smiled at me. And my whole face is really hot, from all that blood rushing to my head. Maybe I need to go to the hospital. Then I'd be free! Yay!

"It's impossible to…?" he repeated, amused.

"Y-you know…"

"Do it? Have sex? Make love? F—"

"STOP!" I quickly cut him off.

He laughed. "Why can't you say it? You're already twenty-two, Kouzuki, and you still couldn't say 'sex'."

Yeah, right. Well, can HE say "floccinaucinihilipilification"?

Or "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis"??

"And you're already twenty-two, Saionji, andyou still act like a hormonal teenager. Or more like a kid who's proud of a three-letter word he can already say."

He frowned. "What's with all the 'Saionji'?"

"Why, wasn't your surname Saionji?"

"Kanata," he only said.

I frowned. "'Kanata' what?"

He smiled. "Why don't you try calling me 'Kanata'?"

"Why would I do that?"

"We've known each other practically since we were zygotes. I think it's time to start getting along with each other." He stood up from the bed. "So, are you hungry, Miyu?"

My cheeks grew warm. Everything else was blocked out. All I heard and comprehended was the 'Miyu'. Echoing continuously. Miyu. Miyu. Miyu.

"I bet our heartless friends have zero plans of delivering us decent food." He was walking towards the fridge at the opposite side of the room now. He opened the door and crouched to his knees. "We only have instant noodles, pumpkin chips, two apples…"

Miyu. Miyu. Miyu.

"Miyu."

I snapped out of my trance just as a bag of pumpkin chips landed directly onto my lap.

Pumpkin chips. Who in the face of the Earth made pumpkin into chips??

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

He looked hurt. "I happen to love pumpkin."

"Sorry, but I happen to hate pumpkin." Mom used to make me bowls of pumpkin soup whenever I get sick or something. Who cares if it makes your vision better? If it's cooked by an aeronautical engineer's wife, who is terribly good at space physics but is terribly terrible at the cooking department, everyone who'd eat it will probably get traumatized by it by now, just like me.

"You contradict everything I say." He walked back to the bed and pulled the bag of chips from my hand. "Hasn't your period arrived yet?"

I met his serious gaze with a stunned, open-mouthed, 'I-think-I've-just-seen-a-ghost' kind of stare. "'Hasn't my period arrived yet??" I echoed.

"Well, it really seems to me like you're having PSM."

PSM??

Oh, God, stupid clueless boys. What does that mean, then? 'Pre-syndrome Menstrual'???

"I think the look on your face says that you're not having your period."

I was about to retort, 'No, it says, YOU ARE SUCH AN IDIOT', but he interrupted my thoughts with the appearance of another of his boyish smirks. "So why don't we enjoy ourselves?"

I eyed him suspiciously.

"You're thinking dirty thoughts, aren't you?"

"I am thinking murderous thoughts," I growled. "You only have one chance to explain yourself. Make it good, or it's Andromeda Galaxy for sure."

He laughed. "I only meant, let's play a game."

"We're already playing a stupid game." I rolled my eyes. "It's called 'One Day in Heaven--I mean, Hell', remember?"

He ignored my sarcasm. "Let's play another one. How about 'Twenty Questions'?"

I've heard about this game from someone before. If I remember it correctly, each person would ask the other person ten questions. You can only ask one question in your turn, and when it's the turn of the person you're playing with, you have to answer their question truthfully. And the purpose of the game, obviously, is to know more about the other person. Which bugs me.

I stared at him, suspicious. "By suggesting that we play this game, you're saying that you want to know more about me."

"Yes." He was smiling at me.

It suddenly occured to me how just like how a face can launch a thousand ships, one word surely can elicit a thousand thoughts. Or doubts. Or suspicions. Or make a thousand red blood cells rush to your cheeks.

"I bet you're going to use the information you force out of me to blackmail me in the near future," I said to hide my embarrassment.

"Have a little trust in me, Miyu. I can actually be pretty nice, too, you know."

The only time that I thought he can be pretty nice was in our first year in junior high, when he stood up and offered to help me with an algebra problem I had trouble answering on the blackboard, and I just barely avoided pure embarrassment in front of our class, thanks to him. Or maybe it's just that I haven't paid so much attention to him. But then, how can I really be sure that he can really be nice, as he said he can be?

"So, what do you think?" He opened the bag of pumpkin chips, stuck his hand inside, and began to eat, as oblivious as one can be. "Want to play with me?"

The way he said it reminded me of our kindergarten years. It's beyond me, how he makes it hard for me to resist. Another demonic power of the Spawn of Satan, I guess.

Without any other word, he extended his hand that was holding the bag of pumpkin chips towards me.

"Fine." I finally stuck my hand inside the bag and ate, calming my angry stomach. "I'll start."