Natsume

The night was dotted with a thousand little bulbs, dancing, shining, disappearing and reappearing, piercing through the sheer blankets of dark clouds. They glowed so bright - so mesmerizing. An innocent flame, much unlike mine. I raise a hand to the sky. It is pale against the dim background, but soon four orange balls of fire dance between each finger. It's been a while since I've conjured my Alice and somehow I feel relieved to know that it comes back to memory perfectly, but then my hand starts to warm up at the proximity, reminding me that my light burns.

I extinguish the flames and sigh, letting my hand drop down to the cool auburn roof tiles I was sprawled down on. What you have doesn't dictate who you are, I hear her say in my head. A comforting smile. A deep hug. The gentle brush of her lips. Who you are defines the purpose of what you have. I scoff outwardly. It's a bit unbelievable how much I rely on her words – even more that someone so stupid could be so smart – but, somehow, I do. I crave them. I'm going insane, I think, replaying memories of her. What are you doing right now? How have you been? When are you coming back? Hasn't Imai had enough of her fun yet? Are you having fun there? Are you meeting sickeningly good-looking Swiss men? Are you going as crazy as I am right now?

I sit up, angry with myself. It shouldn't matter. She made her decision and I agreed to it. That's that, and all this worrisome thinking is pointless. I frown. Coming up to the roof always cooled me off, but tonight – like most nights, recently – my thoughts have managed to fire me up instead, like my Alice that could so quickly go out of control.

Deciding that the night sky no longer provided ample therapeutic relief, I stood up and picked my way across the roof, towards the edge that dropped down to the balcony connected to the second floor lounge area. Some time ago, in our old house, when we were still children, father had bolted a sturdy wooden ladder to connect the then second floor balcony to the roof. He figured that after several reprimands and lectures about the dangers of climbing up the roof were curtly ignored, he might as well take some precaution for the next time it happened. Up to now he still insists on keeping us within the actual walls of the house but was smart enough to recreate the ladder idea, knowing his children well enough to understand that some things – our stubbornness - will never change.

Reaching the last step down, my bare feet connected with cool, tiled flooring. A strong wind blew past as I slid the glass door open and entered the house to get away from the chilly night. I padded on with muffled footsteps across a sort of lounge area father had fashioned in the second floor landing. The space was spacious enough for a loveseat sofa, a coffee table, and a bookshelf. Aoi, particularly, loved to read books. That's where I saw her – fitting herself across the tiny sofa with a book tucked under her chin, knees bent, wild black hair splayed around the armrest. She was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling serenely and the lampshade casting an ethereal glow to her skin, turning her pale.

I sat on the edge of the sofa – she was so tiny and skinny that she only took up about half of the space. "Grimm's Fairy Tales" I whispered, taking the book lying across her chest and placing it on the coffee table. I frowned at it. I didn't like the idea of my sister finding out about the tragic ending of the real Little Mermaid. It didn't quite sit right with me.

"Aoi," I said as softly as I could, shaking her leg as I did. "Aoi wake up."

She grunted, blinking and stretching her arms out over her head, her back arching like a cat. "Nii-san," she said in the middle of a yawn, making it sound all bloated and weird. I smiled. She blinked several more times, trying to focus her eyes on me. "I was waiting for you."

"You could've climbed up," I said. "Sleeping on the couch like this can't be that comfortable."

She shrugged. "It was chilly outside."

"Or you could've gone back to your room." I motioned with my head to the right, at a door at the very end of a corridor. Naturally, my sister gets the room with the view of the front yard. Only the best room for father's princess. Not that I minded. I would've given it to her if she asked me.

Her brows knit together for some reason, as if she was brooding over something. "What is it?" I asked.

She looked away. "I wanted to talk to you about a while ago." It was hard to tell with the dim lighting, but I think my sister was blushing. I couldn't help my body tensing up. She was naturally expressive, I knew, but this conversation was something I wasn't expecting – at least not for another few days or so. She looked at me with that same determined expression this afternoon, eating watermelons with Ruka. The sleepiness had gone away and she opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but faltered. She tried again, this time with steel in her voice. "Natsume nii-san, please allow me to like Ruka-nii."

There was a long silence as I thought about her words. Many girls back at the Academy had more than vocally admired and swooned over Ruka. It was annoying, to say the least. He was compassionate to those who deserved compassion and resolute to the right cause, something girls apparently found attractive. But for Aoi to feel this way as well…

"What do you want me to do? I'm not going to help you, if that's what you're asking." I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but it seems that's all my words ever turn out to be. She visibly winced at my lack of encouragement.

"I'm just asking for your permission," she said in a small voice.

Permission? Is she afraid of me? Does she think I'll ever consider her not good enough for anyone? What kind of question is that? "You're sounding really stupid, Aoi," I warned.

"You're mad. I'm sorry." She bites her lower lip, an irritating habit when she's over-thinking or trying not to say something. Her tone comes out so defeated that I can't help but think that I blubbered out something mean again.

I sighed. "You don't need my approval," I tried to compensate. She looked at me with knitted eyebrows once again. "You have every right to him. Him being my friend doesn't matter. If you like him, I can't say anything about it." As I'm saying this, I think about how true it is. I met Ruka through Aoi who, all those years ago, had befriended the new Alice in town and introduced him to me. To be honest her personality was more attuned to his than mine was. Probably the only reason Ruka and I became closer was because of the similarity in our age and gender. But truly, he's Aoi's. As much as she can claim that I am her brother, she has the power to mark Ruka as well, and I don't doubt that he won't complain. Who could deny her? She's awfully compelling in her simplicity – as if because she never demands for anything, she should be granted everything. Just what kind of claim would be the question. He already thinks of her as a sister, I knew, but whether he could acknowledge her as something more… "Like him if you want, but his response will have nothing to do with me. I won't manipulate his feelings for you just because I know what you've told me. Being my sister doesn't give you that sort of leg up."

For some reason she sighed, relief flooding her eyes. Her famous trouble-free smile made its reappearance, shutting away any vibe of hostility that I may have formed unintentionally. She sat up so that we were face-to-face, and I stared back at my own shade of red eyes. "I wasn't expecting you to," she said, hugging her legs with her cheek resting on the top of her knees. She's still such a kid in many ways, I think. "I could never ask you to do that, or to cause a rift between you and Ruka for that matter. To be honest, I think I just needed my brother to know. You just seem so distant lately I thought I'd bring you back to reality by troubling you with something like this." She chuckled, lightening her words. And yet she's as perceptive and sharp as an adult.

I haven't been present enough? I never knew that Aoi could sense my distress. Maybe I underestimated her sisterly-intuition or maybe I've been thinking about Strawberry Underwear more than the healthy amount. Nevertheless, my gut clenches at the thought that all she wanted was someone to talk to. Not that I can't talk to my sister, but talk to her about this? Her feelings for my closest friend? Is that part of a brother's job description? "Uhh…"

"Hmm?" she looks at me curiously.

I clear my throat. "Well, what about Ruka?" I venture. "Do you wanna… talk about it?" I didn't want to lead her on, but I think Strawberry Underwear had mentioned something about girls needing to just vent out feelings once in a while. It was during a heated argument, if I remember correctly. She was accusing me of being too uncaring and unresponsive towards something something that apparently mattered to her. Who knows? The woman sticks her nose into everything. As if I could keep up.

She laughs and pats me at the back. "Just as much as you'd like to talk about your own love affairs. So I'll save you from that awkward conversation." She smirks. "But thank you for asking."

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding, and my sister laughs at the visible express of relief. "Go to bed," I ordered with a smile. I stood up and was about to head into the corridor when her voice calls me back.

"I wasn't too obvious though, was I?" She asked.

Looking back at the events of the afternoon, I'm surprised to recall the grace she conducted herself with. She was charming, I remembered, even to Sumirem who seemingly had never let go of her high school fantasies over Ruka and clung to him the entire time. And naturally, he didn't even notice that. I rolled my eyes. "Ruka's pretty dense." I shrug. She laughed, finding that amusing.

"I think it's cute," she said innocently.

"I think that's sickening," I said pointedly.

She lifted a shoulder. "Can't help how I feel."

I thought that over. "Emotions aren't meant to be ruled, but how you respond to them can."

"No one can be as impassive as you, oniisan," she joked. Or at least I think it was a joke.

"Go to sleep. It's late."

She scrunched her nose at me playfully before conceding. "Good night!" She got up from the couch and was heading my way when a loud thud caught both our attention. Something had slammed into the closed balcony doors. She looked at me warily, suddenly on high alert. That look on her face was like a punch in the gut. If I could watch Persona burn a thousand times, it still wouldn't be enough vengeance. He had imprinted himself into the mind of Aoi like a hot iron poker, and even after so long, her wounds were like scabs that reopened every once in a while. She, of all people, didn't deserve it.

I smoothed down the wrinkles forming on her forehead. "It's probably just a bird. You don't have to worry," I said.

She relaxed, giving me a small smile. "You're right," she said, already turning away from me to check it out. Aoi reached the glass first, looking through to examine the cause of disturbance. She peered down, sliding the glass doors as she did.

"What is it?" I asked.

She bent down to pick something up, and when she got back up she was holding up a pink envelope sealed with a heart sticker at the end. I stared at it like one would a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

'I'll write to you often, I promise!' He hadn't asked, he never did for affectionate gestures like those. Everyone was hugging her goodbye, wishing her a safe flight, telling her not to do stupid things and get into trouble. Imai had already been walking away, about to board and ready to leave. She followed when she stopped in her tracks and looked back. She stared back at him from where he was watching separated from all her well-wishers. Her eyes were full of expression, as if she had forgotten something vital. She dropped everything and ran back – more of charged at him, to be honest. Small dry hands, calloused and familiar, wrapped around his nape. Her forehead pressed upon his chest. The wind blew him a whisper. 'I love you, Natsume. Don't forget it while I'm away.' His arms slowly snaked around her body, despite his will. How could he not? Just a moment. A passing act and then she was gone.

Aoi smiled knowingly. "It looks like a flying turtle crash landed on our balcony. It had this in between its mouth." She waved the unopened pink envelope like a prize.

It was an extremely sappy looking letter and probably contained equally sappy content, but still, my heart skipped a beat.