The moonlight spilling onto the floor provided the only source of light in the dark room. Not that he did need much light to be able to see her with his dead eyes.
Her features were etched into his mind with such detail he could close his eyes and still see her. The whiteness of her skin, with a slight blush on her cheeks and the violet of her eyes.
Those eyes of hers served as a constant reminder of her humanity, of her quality as ambrosia, and the chasm that would always separate her from him.
He watched her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, the sound of her breathing so loud against the stillness of the room. He found himself taking breaths in time with hers, wanting to match her, be equal to her on some basic level.
It was an impossibility, of course, for her mortality made her far superior to him, too far to touch. Human life always seemed petty to him, their flawed nature being the very reason why they became revenants, and so it was a quality he had never envied in another being…
Until now.
All these years, he had struggled with the boredom and solitude of eternal life, not so much hating what he was, as this was too strong of an emotion for him to have felt in his many centuries, but rather the static nature of it, the feeling of being forever stuck in a purgatory.
Had it not been for the goddess' curse, however, he would be long dead and he would have never been granted the opportunity to lay eyes on the amazing creature sleeping in front of him. Never hear the lilt to her voice, never smell the fragrance of her skin. It was worth centuries of nothingness just to stand in her presence.
However, an ambrosia she remained, and while she lived, she would be under constant threat of murder from foolish people desperate for a cursed existence, to touch the realm of the gods. People who did not deserve such a sacrifice from her.
He, himself, was a threat to her, even if he felt no need to murder her. Now that he knew such a human, he was tempted far beyond what he had ever been tempted before. Her scent was so powerful, a simple wave of her hand affected him in undreamed of ways.
In his imagination, he speculated on what it would be to taste her mouth. She would most certainly be so potent his thirst would easily be satisfied with a few drops, but then he knew that once he would taste, he would not be able to stop.
Yet, if he did partake of her body, if he drained her of every drop what she had to give, if he took her the way he so desperately craved, she would miss out on the short, blissful existence her human life could give her.
Gone would be the promises of marriage, of happiness, of children. Of growing old. Of, someday, looking back and thinking it all was worth it. She could give him everything he could ever desire, but he could give her nothing but a mockery of what she deserved.
Therein was the trouble.
He wanted her to live a full life and to find love and happiness, and yet he knew he could not have her in that way. He finds he is too selfish a creature to only take a little, to remain in the sidelines, to be the brother, and deny himself the whole prize.
To be with her, to have her in his life, would mean exploiting and tainting the very essence of what drew him to her, that is to say, her joyful demeanor, her brightness of soul, her soft heart.
He wanted her to live out her human life and everything that came with it, but he wanted her as a companion, he did not want to return to his former existence before he entered her life.
She shifted in her sleep, tilting her head further up the pillow and having the shirt of the pajama go up as well, revealing to him the soft skin of her slender waist. Her body seemed to mock him; her beauty seemed almost intentionally cruel, in a bid to tempt him, to show to him what he had lost centuries ago.
How he would savor the taste of her. He bent forward and inhaled her sweet fragrance. If he took what he wanted, he would lose her forever, and he wanted her for forever.
There was no way to win.
He stood up, never making a sound, and glanced down at her for what he assumed would be the last time for a while. He would leave Tokyo tomorrow for Okunezato, the violacias are summoning him.
Perhaps, the stay at some place far away enough would be enough to free him from this temptation, even if he was hardly convinced that would be the case.
He closed his eyes and once more breathed in the smell of her, filling his useless lungs with that essence, hoping it would last him for the rest of his tortured demi-life.
Then, to his dismay, she spoke his name.
He froze, wide-eyed and curious, like an animal caught in the headlights of an on-coming vehicle. He thought for a moment that his movement had somehow woken her up, but she was so still, deeply asleep.
Had he imagined the sound of her voice? His eyes never left her face as he watched her mouth form his name once more.
"Brother."
The movement of her eyes behind her lids told him she was dreaming. More so, she was dreaming of him. He let the thought swim in his brain as he stood rooted to the spot, uncertain of how to precede.
Leave or stay?
Perhaps he is being too demanding of himself. Perhaps he should frame it as to return and be the brother for as long as possible, or to leave definitively and let her forget all about him.
Did he deserve to have a companion? Did he deserve to break the eternal solitude? He was human once, he supposes, he is deserving of second chances. Then again, he might not remember any of it, but he must have killed someone as pure and wonderful as Ichiko once, and if he was to push judgement on himself, he would say his suffering was well-deserved.
Is this the meaning of her existence? To punish the revenants? To prove that eternal life was meaningless? She was the one. She feels like she was sent to him for this very reason. He knew it all the way to the bottom of his weathered, cold heart.
It would be the most difficult challenge of his life, but she was worth it. Staying with her, in any capacity, was worth it. The love she showered him every day of her life was worth it.
He smiled down at her and made his choice.
"I will be back."