Jirou would often wake in the middle of the night, screaming. It was nothing unusual, or noteworthy, or remotely troubling anymore. Kotaro had gotten used to it after so many years of living with his elder brother. Mimiko would get used to it too.
Jirou feigned ignorance of why he did this, claiming falsely of bad dreams or the like. Mimiko was not fully convinced about these nightmares, saying nothing, but she did not know that each and every night without fail – Jirou dreamt of Alice Eve.
Alice Eve – The Sage. Jirou could feel her blood coursing through his veins, pumping around and even into his heart. Each thump, each mortal beat, brought her closer to him; it was a clock, ticking down to the time when the Sage would finally be reborn. And Jirou would, after all these years, return her blood to her. Before, he had seen this as but his duty, and he was all too glad to adhere to it. But now, he solemnly realised that he would miss this world and those who inhabited it. Poor Mimiko, he wished he could console her in some way, but he could not open his heart the way he knew she wanted him to.
His heart, body and soul; all of them belonged to Alice.
Suddenly snapped awake from his slumber, Mochizuki Jirou rose in his bed, the covers soaked transparent with fervent sweat. He glanced around him briefly and saw the moon push its baleful light through his open window, aided by the cool breeze which heralded it.
"It's just like that night, Alice…" Jirou reminisced – remembering with painful clarity holding his beloved in his arms; the touch of her skin, the fragrant strands of her golden hair, her tranquil blue eyes and the pulsing of that delightful artery…
Again, he felt the Sage's blood lament beneath his pale skin, pining hungrily after the already diminishing memory. He heard its dirge – its woeful song – and nearly wept. Yes, he would return her blood, but then what? He would die. He would be alone.
In the past, they had lived such a plain, happy existence. But Alice had been taken from him; her life had been stolen away. And now he was to succumb to death and lose her again? What was the point of growing fruit if one was not allowed to taste its flesh? Obligation or not, he knew what his heart desired, but it was reaching out for something impossible. A fool – trying to catch a star.
"I need you," Jirou whispered through the coming tears, "I love you, Alice."
And each night Jirou would utter the same desperate words. Although the blood that sustained his body would sing to him its hurt, nothing else could be heard. Every night, Alice answered with silence.
End