Greetings to all of you, dear readers!

Ah, it has been a long time since I published any story.

Anyway, this story is set before Reminiscing and, in here, Natsume is still alive, so rest assured. Truth to be told, I almost gave up on publishing this story. Ugh, let's just say…things happened and I once lost my mood to finish this. Yes, it's horrible of me.

You can call this is a continuation of A Miracle Night's series or Once Upon a Night too if you want. All of them could be connected to each other anyway.

Okay! Enough talking!

Here I present you Silence of the Night. Enjoy!

And, happy birthday to Natsume!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gakuen Alice and its characters. I do own the plot.

-o-O-o-

Silence of the Night

-o-O-o-

Tired.

That was all he could feel.

He felt sore in some parts of his body and, for some reason, he felt too weak to move. His part time work at a book shop last night had worn him out. Not to mention his condition got worse after he stayed under the rain two days ago, thanks to his girlfriend who stood him up because she forgot their date.

Natsume Hyuga slowly opened his eyes, and they were met with the orange color of the ceiling.

He heaved a small sigh. It had been a long time since he felt so weak, almost like the moment when he suffered from the pain caused by his fire alice. In that case, tired and sore were only the early faint signs. It could worsen anytime, resulting in the painful thumps of his heart, followed by a burning and piercing sensation all over his body later on.

It would hurt like hell.

Even after graduating from the cursed Alice Academy, he still wasn't able to get away from the darkness he had been staying in for a long time. Even though it had been more than a year since he moved out and rented an apartment to live with his beloved, he still could smell the scent of blood on his hands. The invisible chain of his hurtful past was still there, clinging to the weakest part of his heart so tight, not wanting to release their prey easily. And the chain would always be there, until the day he perished from this world.

The silence continued for a few seconds as he drowned in his own reverie. All the time, he did nothing, just staring at the ceiling in daze, waiting for the drowsiness to fade. When his consciousness had fully come back, he made a small yawn and swung his right hand to the pillow next to him.

But how surprised he was when, instead of the soothing warmth as he expected, it was cold that greeted his opened palm.

He blinked once and turned his head to the right, only to discover that it was actually empty. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at the orange colored ceiling.

Nope, he assured himself, he was not in the wrong room. He indeed was in his girlfriend's room.

Besides, this wasn't something new. He always did this, sneaking into his girlfriend's room whenever he felt unwell and hardly could sleep at night. Because, compared to his simple and cold room, her room was brighter, soother, and full of inviting warmth. It was comfortable and safe that he could lower his guard freely and immediately fall asleep.

However, to not wake up to her presence this morning, it was something unusual.

It was strange. The girlfriend of his barely could wake up earlier than him, except when he was sick or his illness acted up again, or when he was simply too lazy to leave the bed. Even if she did wake up first, she usually would bug him, proud that she managed to beat him into waking up earlier in the morning.

Now, to know that he was alone on the single bed, the uneasiness started to build up in the corner of his heart.

"…Polka?"

Where was his girlfriend?

Shoving the clean white quilt from him, Natsume brought himself out of the bed and wandered to the window. He pushed the red curtain aside and looked outside, staring at the dark sky.

So it's still night after all, he thought while eyeing the deserted street. Even though the entire ground had been covered with its white color, the snows still showed no sign it would stop falling soon. It was raining down hardly, almost looking like a snowstorm.

This kind of peaceful night, he used to like it. Silent, cold, yet soothing. It used to calm his mind whenever he was alone in his dorm room in Alice Academy. The wheezing noise of the storm used to sound like a lullaby in his ears, which lulled him to sleep whenever his alice acted up and burned him from inside.

But that was all in the past.

Now, it was a bit different.

His lips curled down into a dissatisfied frown as he took in the night view. Seeds of worry grew within him when a question crossed in his head.

If it was still night, then where could his girlfriend be at this kind of time?

There was no way she went out in this kind of weather, right?

A soft sigh escaped from his lips as he moved away from the window and let his eyes wander around the room. The space felt colder now, since the owner was missing. The bright orange and cream color decorating the room looked fading all of a sudden. He no longer felt like staying in the place and started to make his way to the door.

Stretching his hand, Natsume twisted the doorknob and stepped outside, flabbergasted to find how cold the corridor was compared to the room he just walked out from. Nevertheless, he closed the door behind him and walked through the corridor in search of a certain brunette. His voice echoed in the air as he called the brunette using the nickname he gave her when they were still eleven year old, "Polka? Where are you?"

He reached the door beside her bedroom, which he recognized as his own bedroom, and peeked inside, just in case if the girl he had been looking for was staying there after he hijacked her room. "…Mikan?"

His room was dark, as usual. His bed was made up neatly. The blue curtain still covered the window, and there was no sign of someone being there before. It was untouched.

She's not here, he concluded and closed the door again.

Sighing, Natsume continued his journey to find the brunette. The cold bit into his skin harder, making him shiver slightly. He shoved his hands into his pockets to warm them up, thinking at least he could save those parts of him from the chilly air.

"Polka dots? Where are you?" he called again, venturing to the kitchen.

No one was there. The dinner table, counter, and the sink were also clean, just like the last time he left it hours ago before going to sleep. There was also no food left by his dearly beloved brunette.

Natsume scrunched up his face in befuddlement and turned to his back, going to the next destination, the middle room. The cold silence had gotten into him as he treaded the corridor, anxious slowly creeping up his stomach. The combination of both made him feel sick.

He needed her now. Badly.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the middle room, but the urge soon vanished as he sighted no one there. The cold was even biting in this spacious place. The photos of the two of them together, which the brunette lined up on top of the white cube cabinet at the corner of the room, also seemed to freeze with the whole space.

Slowly but sure, he felt the coldness seep into his heart. It wouldn't melt, not when the only source of undying warmth he needed was nowhere to be found.

Upset, Natsume dragged his feet to the cream colored couch his girlfriend chose to buy when they moved in to the apartment and plopped down on it. His crimson eyes trailed to the foggy window, watching the snows falling and piling at the edge of the glass.

So peaceful.

So quiet.

So…algid.

And it was not only because of the weather.

On top of it, he didn't like it, unlike his past self.

Not at all.

He hated this kind of night.

"Mikan…" Her name came out of his lips in a soft whisper as he hauled his knees up to his chest and ducked his head on it.

He felt insecure. He wanted to see her. He needed to hear her voice. He had to feel her presence.

He was afraid if his new life, the happiness he had finally found, was just a dream. He was afraid it would shatter anytime and he would wake up to his old, imprisoned life in the academy again.

He was afraid if the brunette was just a part of his imagination.

"Come out, idiot…" he mumbled and lifted his head back, staring at the front door with a determination look. "…Don't leave me…"

Just when he was about to get up and search for her again, his heart gave out a hard thump, once.

He winced.

It hurt.

Twice. Thrice. The more his heart thumped, the faster and more hurtful it became.

The sudden force from his inside pushed him back onto the couch. Gripping the arm of the couch, his other hand came up to his chest and twisted his shirt in a tight fist.

Mikan.

Natsume slowly exhaled and inhaled in rhyme, trying to calm the worsening pain. His eyes widened when the pain hit his heart again. This time, something warm trailed up his throat.

He quickly brought one hand in front of his mouth, stretched his head forward and coughed out loud. The warm liquid immediately filled his mouth and spilled onto his hand, some splattering on the floor.

The color of red looked so vivid on the white ceramic.

Red…

Red…

Red of blood.

His head spun for a while as he breathed heavily. His vision blurred. A familiar metallic taste coated his tongue. His throat and lungs burned and his chest felt like being squeezed hardly.

He knew these signs so well.

Oh God, how he hated this.

Now he needed to go back to his room to get his medicine. He had to, before it turned worse, but his body just wouldn't listen to him.

Natsume fell on the floor right away when he tried to stand up. His feet lost its strength to support his body. Incredible weakness engulfed him, and beads of perspiration started to form on his temples even though cold still covered the room.

However, the chilly air vanished all of a sudden, replaced by a smoldering heat coming from nowhere. Natsume almost gave up his consciousness when he felt the warmth increased unusually. He lifted his head up in alert and what he saw next was beyond his imagination.

Crimson.

Everywhere.

Licking and burning.

The fire spread to every corner of the room, crawling on the wall and scorching everything within its reach to ashes.

Natsume directed his gaze to his own hand which rested on the floor right away. The flame with the same red color wrapped his right hand, dancing lithely, taunting him, devouring his arm slowly as if he was the main menu it didn't want to finish at once.

His heart throbbed again, the stinging pain following not long after. A gasp of pain slipped out his lips, and all he could do was tighten his grip further into the fabric of his shirt. He wanted to shout, releasing all the pain he felt. However, strangely, his voice wouldn't get out and only stop at the base of his tongue. The ache from his burned arm only worsened his situation.

Was this how he would end?

A fire caster who died by his own flame. How tragic was it?

With difficulty, Natsume lay his back on the floor and stared at the ceiling, which was now red by the fire that hadn't been satisfied by just consuming the furniture and his precious photos with Mikan. A smile of resignation made its way to his lips as the fire in his hand slithered to the other parts of his body, pervading to his chest.

He remembered. Long, long ago, the thought that he would die by his alice once came across his mind, that he would get burned or explode because of the overflowing power. But he never imagined his flame would also burn his surroundings.

Natsume closed his eyes, accepting every pain inflicted upon him.

But, oddly, the pain didn't come to him. No more.

Only the heat, and a bit of loneliness and regret because he would never, ever be able to see his brunette's face again.

Ah…this is not good…

He gave a small grin when the fire caressed his cheek.

Mikan will be mad if she knows I burn the whole apartment down.

And everything faded to black.

-o-O-o-

He felt hot.

His body was sore.

Natsume snapped his eyes opened in a flash, and winced at the sudden stinging pain in his chest. His body curled up on impulse, one hand pressing against the part where it hurt, and all he did was grind his teeth and remind himself to breathe properly.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The old method managed to lessen the pain he felt for a while. Once he was able to move, Natsume immediately pulled open the drawer at the nightstand. His hand swam inside the drawer in panic and lifted out a white bottle from it not long after.

He tried to open the bottle with his fingers, which were trembling from the restrained pain that surged up again. He clicked his tongue a few times in annoyance when the cap refused to open and almost put his anger to his limit. And as soon as the bottle cap was finally off, he shoved the contents into his hands, red capsules falling to his palm and the quilt. Without thinking anymore, he quickly took two capsules and shoved it into his mouth, then he let his body collapsed back onto the disordered bed, waiting for the medicine to work, hoping the pain in his chest would fade soon.

Time seemed to pass slowly as he waited for the ache to subside. And when it did, he faintly could hear the wind gust outside the window and wondered to himself, was there a snowstorm out there?

Natsume opened his eyes and looked at the bottle in his right hand. It was a good thing that Mikan insisted on keeping the half content of his medicine in her place, just in case if he got an unexpected attack when he stayed there. That brunette surely knew how he liked to sleep in her bedroom.

He then turned his attention to the place beside him. A frown formed on his face when he didn't find anyone there.

Just like in his dream.

He jerked up from his bed when the images in his dream emerged in his head and walked to the door in a hurry. His heart was beating hardly inside his chest; this time not from his illness, but from the rising fear. The fear of being alone. The fear of not being able to see his girlfriend's face one more time before death came to get him.

His footsteps mixed with the noise of door being banged shut, echoing through the corridor as he opened every door he found, looking inside the room, searching for the silhouette of the brunette.

Mikan! Mikan! Mikan!

That one name filled his head the whole time as he went through his apartment in panic. His dread reached its limit when he arrived in the empty middle room. The nightmare came haunting him and his eyes dimmed in despair right away.

Natsume leaned his back on the nearest wall and slowly slid down to the floor, gasping for breath. His black, long bangs fell in front of his face, covering the blank stare in his crimson eyes. His heart was beating wildly after all those panic and, this time, there was a faint stinging sensation turned up in there. It seemed like his illness had come back, despite the fact he just consumed the pain killer a few minutes before.

Could this be the end of him? To die alone under the cold weather?

"Natsume? What are you doing there?"

The gentle voice brought him back from his pessimistic thought. When he lifted his head, his gaze immediately fell onto the pair of browns he always loved. The brunette he had been searching for all this time was standing beside the front door, staring at him in confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He couldn't answer that one question. He was tongue-tied. It took a few moments before he finally found his voice and was able to move his stiff tongue, and the first sentence which came out of his mouth was, "Don't tell me you were playing in the snowstorm."

Mikan blinked once and innocently answered, "No. I was just visiting the granny in the first floor."

He knew. He already could tell she didn't go out of the building. The brunette didn't wear any coat at that time. There was only a thick orange jacket shielding her, and the fabric wasn't wet by the snow or anything that indicated she had stepped outside the apartment in the uncompromised weather. Those words escaped his lips just like that, merely to mask the concern and panic which enveloped him. He didn't want to make her worry.

Mikan blinked again and walked over to him. "Are you all right? You're pale, and you look tired…"

Natsume waved his left hand at her and slowly stood up. Only then he realized how weak his feet were, but he tried to cover it up in front of the brunette. "No. It's just your imagination," he mumbled as he ambled to the cream colored couch in the middle of the room.

Mikan's lips formed a thin line in disbelief. "Are you sure?" she asked in suspicion and followed him to the couch. "Your back is drenched."

"It's just sweat."

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Then?"

"Just a nightmare."

The brunette stared at him weirdly, and then her lips broke into a naughty smile. "The Natsume Hyuga is afraid of a nightmare?" she questioned teasingly. Almost instantly, she got a glare from the fire caster.

"Shut up, Polka dots," Natsume grunted, toppling his body onto the couch. "As if you're never scared of your nightmare. Your fears are even more than mine."

"But this is you." Mikan pushed his body a bit so she got a place to sit. "Natsume Hyuga has never been afraid of anything."

He looked at her.

"Right?" The brunette poked his chest jokingly. But her desire to tease him further immediately vanished when Natsume didn't contradict her words at all. His still gaze made her restless, and she could feel heat creeping up her cheeks. "What?"

"No." Natsume pulled her arm toward him without any warning, surprising the brunette and making her fall on top of him. The warmth from her body seeped into every chilled part of his flesh right away. Both of his arms circled around her waist protectively. He then buried his head on the crook of her neck, inhaling her soft and sedating scent.

Mikan rebelled in his hold for a while, and then gave up when she knew she wouldn't be released soon. The hug tightened, but not strong enough to hurt her. Her whole body gradually relaxed when Natsume's hand slipped under her jacket and stroked her back gently. She let out a contented sigh. "Natsume…"

"Hm?"

"You haven't answered my question yet."

Natsume continued caressing her back while murmuring, "That's not important."

Mikan lifted her head and argued, "But—"

"Mikan."

"Yes?"

He patted her head. "Be quiet."

The brunette pouted, but complied with his wish and chose to drown in the soothing embrace.

Natsume stared at the ceiling calmly. The wheezing sound of abating snowstorm mingled with Mikan's soft breath, sounding like a melodious hum in his ears. His chest which was aligned to the brunette's moved up and down in harmonious and comforting rhythm.

Now, this was the silence he preferred more than anything. The stillness where Mikan was near him. The quietness which could even erase the pain in his chest.

'Natsume Hyuga has never been afraid of anything.'

Ah, if only she knew how many fears he had concerning the brunette, he might be getting teased by her.

The need to see her. The need to be close to her. The need to be with her. The need to make sure she was safe, even from her own clumsiness or stupidity. Those frivolous things pushed him to the point of frustration, driving him crazy.

But that was only if she knew. And perhaps he wouldn't mind that much when she found out this secret of his one day.

A small smile formed on his lips as he planted a kiss on the crown of Mikan's head. His hand couldn't stop stroking her back, not yet tired of touching her. And even that small act wasn't enough.

Perhaps later.

When the night got late and the air was a bit colder.

And after they were already under the warm comforter.

"Natsume, you know—"

"Shut up."

Yes, this kind of silence was the most potent medicine for him.

-Fin-