Sorry this pinch hit took so long, this fic ended up being a lot longer that I anticipated! The title comes from a song by The Hush Sound that I think suits Nezumi very well! (Its called Hospital Bed Crawl). Happy holidays!
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Being back in NO. 6 felt wrong.
When he was on the road, the air didn’t suffocate him the same way it did in the city proper. He could feel the air in his lungs poisoning his body.
He felt…heavy.
While he knew he wasn’t strong enough to leave Shion a second time, he missed the freedom he felt with the city far behind him.
Nezumi could feel himself begin to spiral, a wave of nausea hit him hard. He quickly got up from the bed, ignoring Shion’s muffled words of protest, making it to the bathroom and promptly throwing up into the waste bin.
He hadn't heard Shion get up, but he didn't jump when Shion's cold hand began rubbing circles into his back.
Nezumi groaned, “...feel awful.”
“I can see that,” Shion huffed a laugh behind him, keeping his hands steady on Nezumi’s back.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. He could hear Shion fretting with something but opted to ignore it, in favor of focusing on not throwing up a second time. The nausea came in waves, Nezumi was sure he was shaking but had no energy to worry about how weak that must have made him seem.
He briefly registered Shion’s hand on his forehead, Shion's soft ‘oh’ was enough to tell him that he must have been running some sort of fever.
“I think we need to get you some medicine.”
Nezumi tamped down the dread in his stomach, he shook his head, before pulling the bin close to him and throwing up a second time.
He ignored Shion, keeping his eyes closed tightly and willing himself to feel better.
“I know you'd rather wait it out,” Shion's voice was soft. Nezumi felt awful.
He knew Shion cared for him, the idea that Shion would ever put him in harm's way was laughable. Shion had proved a thousand times over that he would never let anything hurt him; but here he was, sitting on the bathroom floor, trembling like a small scared child.
“I can find someone to come to the house,” Shion paused, "I'll call Inukashi too, we can both be with you.”
Nezumi stayed quiet, willing a miracle to happen and heal him instantly.
He didn't know if he was angry with himself more for being weak or for causing Shion this amount of anguish. He wanted to scream and yell and fight. At least that would be something that could be resolved. Shion could fight back, he could calm the storm that Nezumi often felt he needed to fight alone.
Instead he sat on the bathroom floor, a nauseous coward.
He could see the sad look on Shion’s face in his mind's eye. One that made him falter often in their daily lives. But between the nausea, and the fear welling up inside of him, Nezumi snapped.
“You know what they did to me.”
The words came out of nowhere. The already uncomfortable atmosphere quickly changed into tense silence. Without waiting for a reply Nezumi continued, ignoring any rational thought that his brain could offer.
“You’ve always been good at ignoring what doesn't benefit you.”
Shion exhaled through his nose, letting the rebuttals die on his tongue. Nezumi wobbled forward, leaning his head on the sink cabinet to stop himself from falling fully. He knew he was making everything worse. He hugged the waste bin tight to his chest, jumping when he felt Shion’s hand touch his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Nezumi–”
“I don't need pity.”
Shion stands up, taking a step back from Nezumi on the floor. “Im…going to call Inukashi.”
Nezumi huffed before unceremoniously throwing up a third time. He heard Shion leave the room. Bits of his conversation with Inukashi floating into the bathroom.
No, it's fine.
Can you come over while I go out?
He’s sick, I know he didn't mean it.
Thanks Inukashi.
Shion stepped back towards the bathroom, staying in the doorway to give Nezumi his space.
“Inukashi is on their way over now,” Shion sighed. “I’ll see if I can find someone to come to the house.”
Nezumi stayed quiet, keeping his eyes closed and his mouth shut. Between the nausea and fear he didn't trust himself to open his mouth anymore. He knew he needed to apologize but everything felt like ash on his tongue.
Minutes passed and Shion had stepped away at some point to let Inukashi inside.
“Hes been in the bathroom for an hour,” Shion's voice sounded faraway. “Im going to see if the clinic in town will do a house call.”
“You’re too nice to him when he’s like this.” Inukashi huffed.
“I don’t want to make things worse for him,” Shion's voice was soft “Besides you’re good at keeping him company. Just sit with him, I'll be back as soon as I can.”
“Yeah whatever,” Inukashi turned towards the bathroom, waving a hand at Shion.
Nezumi ignored the way his heart ached when he heard the door close.
Inukashi stepped into the bathroom, quickly sitting on the floor resting their back against the cabinet doors.
“You’ve always been dramatic, but this seems new for you.”
Inukashi seemed uninterested in talking, their voice toeing the edge of being bored. Nezumi ignored them.
“Shion was upset you’d hate him.” Inukashi paused, letting the silence hang in the air before continuing. “We both know that's not true.”
Nezumi huffed, deciding for once to keep his mouth shut.
“Oh, nothing to say?” Inukashi hummed, “Maybe you're more sick than I thought.”
The two sat in silence, Inukashi typing something on their phone, before setting it back on the floor.
“You’re normally not this much of a coward.”
Nezumi bristled, “Shut up.”
“Oh, he speaks?”
Nezumi swallowed his rebuttal to take a steadying breath, "You're annoying.”
“I’m wounded.” Inukashi huffed a laugh.
Nezumi opened and closed his mouth, his mind hanging on Inukashi’s earlier words. Shion was upset you’d hate him. As if he could ever.
The whole reason he came back to NO. 6 in the first place was because of Shion. Being on the road for two years was freeing. He felt safe and confident, but without Shion he felt the emptiness more than he ever had before. Shion had always been a gravitational force that Nezumi had no way of avoiding.
A new wave of nausea hit Nezumi, but if it was due to illness or disappointment in himself, he was unsure.
“Sometimes I wonder why he likes you so much.” Inukashi huffed a laugh, "You're a child.”
“Coming from you thats—” Nezumi cursed himself mentally, throwing up for the third time. He could feel his skin becoming clammy. He knew he must have looked as terrible as he felt.
Inukashi sighed, muttering under his breath, “Absolutely ridiculous.”
Nezumi listened to Inukashi shuffle around the bathroom, the sound of cabinets being opened and water running was brief. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the cold rag placed on the back of his neck.
“Shit—”
“Stop talking before you throw up again.”
The two sat in silence for a while, Nezumi wasn't sure if he felt better, but the cool rag was keeping him grounded. He could feel himself getting comfortable on the floor, he was getting tired.
“Shion would kill me if you fell asleep in the bathroom.”
Nezumi groaned, “Who cares.”
“It seems like you would care a lot.” Inukashi grabbed the waste bin and placed it back on the floor, before standing up and pulling Nezumi with them.
The walk to the bed took forever, Nezumi's limbs were heavy and uncoordinated. And even though Inukashi was the one who made the call to move from the bathroom they were fully unhelpful in navigating Nezumi anywhere.
Nezumi flopped onto the bed, his body feeling immediately better as it sank into the mattress.
Somewhere Inukashi was talking, but Nezumi was too tired to care.
Yeah the idiot finally got back into bed
Okay, see you in a bit
Nezumi woke up to a darkened room.
His heartbeat skyrocketed before feeling a cool hand on his shoulder.
“You’re okay, "Shion's voice was soft. “Let me turn on the lights.”
Shion leaned over Nezumi, reaching for the lamp on the night stand. The soft lamp light filled their shared bedroom, easing Nezumi’s frayed nerves.
They weren’t in the facility, they weren't on the run. Nezumi was safe.
Shion was safe.
“Sorry.” Nezumi's voice cut through the silence that hung in the room. He hated how small he sounded. Like he was a child all over again.
Hell he might as well have been a child with how he acted today.
“I don’t think you need to apologize.” Shion’s voice wavered. “I didn’t… I don’t know everything.”
Nezumi brows furrowed, staying silent to give Shion time to continue.
“I can assume, I mean, but–”
“Shion–”
“You don't need to tell me everything, You don't need to talk about it at all if you don't want to.” Shion's words came out quickly, as if he'd lose his nerve if he stopped. “But I care about you.”
Shion turned to face Nezumi, “I would never do anything to betray the trust you've given me, and today when you…You looked like I —”
Nezumi stared hard, watching Shion blink back tears. Even now he was a coward. Afraid to reach out and make things worse.
The silence in the room was heavy, bordering unbearable. Nezumi never struggled with his words as much as he did now, when they mattered. The two sat in silence for a long while, before Shion spoke up again.
“I want you to believe in me.”
Nezumi leaned forward, his hands moving up to cradle Shion’s face.
Shion shook his head lightly, his mouth opened to speak before Nezumi cut him off.
“I’ve always been impressed with how resilient you are.” Nezumi pulled back to look at Shion’s face. His eyes were already red from crying, he looked tired and frustrated. Nezumi knew he was to blame for that.
“You’re so much stronger than I am.”
Shion huffed his disagreement but Nezumi ignored it.
“Shion, I quite literally owe you my life.” Nezumi pulled his hands back, wavering, before placing them in his lap. “When we were kids, you saved me.”
“Nezumi–” Shion stopped, looking down where Nezumi had intertwined their hands together on the blanket.
“I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and I'll be back in the facility, or that I’ll be 12 years old again and on my way to die.” Nezumi's voice was barely a whisper.
“Im scared that I’ll lose you to the Parasite Wasps, or that Elyurias will decide to give up on humans.” Nezumi paused. His hands trembled lightly in Shion’s grip. “Im scared of a future without you in it.”
Nezumi looked back up at Shion, his eyes lingering on the pink scar that Shion had been saddled with. He never hated it, to Nezumi, that scar was proof that Shion was always strong enough to survive.
Shion had complained about it offhandedly once or twice. He hated the stares he still got, even years later.
Shion squeezed Nezumi’s hand tightly, pulling him from his thoughts.
“If you'll let me,” Shion took a deep breath, Nezumi could see him searching for the right words. “I can be strong for you. When you need me to.”
The tears in Nezumi's eyes spilled over, his breath hitched when Shion pulled him into a tight embrace.
“I’m not mad though.” Shion huffed a laugh, rubbing circles into Nezumi’s back.
“You should be,” Nezumi paused, “I would be”
“I know, that's why we make a good team.”
Shion felt terrible.
Even without checking he was sure he had a fever, likely whatever Nezumi had. They hadn’t exactly quarantined through the whole ordeal.
“Oh,” Shion felt Nezumi’s hand on his forehead, “You look awful.”
“I thought you liked me.” Shion laughed and quickly regretted it, a wave of nausea pushed through his body.
“I do.” Nezumi paused, “Do you need me to get anything?”
Shion sighed, “No, I grabbed some stuff from the clinic yesterday for us.”
“You weren’t sick yesterday.” Nezumi’s voice sounded puzzled, “Did you plan on getting sick?”
“Of course not!” Shion rolled over with a great amount of effort. “I just kind of assumed it would happen.”
“Right.” Nezumi nodded, wrapping his arms around Shion’s waist, “I’m sorry you caught this.”
Through everything no matter how hard it was, or how bleak everything seemed he was here. He was content, and warm and happy.
No matter how much the two of them had changed from the boys they used to be, they had found each other again and again. Like the moon and the tides they were drawn to one another.
If Nezumi needed time, Shion would give it to him.
“It’s fine, I'm not worried” Shion closed his eyes, and focused on Nezumi’s arms around him.
You requested a Safu survives AU and I did my best to deliver. Originally I wanted there to be a short reunion / meeting with Nezumi and Shion but unfortunately that did not happen. Since this is an AU I took some artistic liberties to make it a little more logical but I might have skipped some many details. Hope you can still enjoy it if only a little!
Have a good time!
_____________
It was hard to keep her ears and eyes open. Especially the latter. But she willed herself to stay awake. Otherwise she might lose herself.
Safu squinted through the water, ignoring the burning of her eyes. The room ("No, lab", she corrected herself), she was in was way too bright. She wasn't sure if they had turned the lights off even once ever since she came here. Or rather ever since she got forcibly taken there.
Why her of all people? Hasn't she been a virtuous citizen? Hasn't she served No 6 well?
Questions over questions. Yet she could never ask them. For one, the mask which helped her breath under water prevented her from saying anything. Secondly they — the professors — didn't let her out. Thanks to the various tubes attached to her body she was able to survive without taking a single step outside her tiny aquarium. She certainly did feel like a fish though ten if not hundred times worse. At least a fish could move and in most cases hide.
All of a sudden a pair of all too familiar steps came closer to her. It gave her goosebumps every time. More often than not it meant pain for her. But precious results for them.
Willing her eyes to stay open, she regarded the person in front of her carefully. Due to the water and the awful lighting she could barely make out a human shape as usual. When she first came here the blurriness wasn't that bad. Yet while she would like to see more, she found it more important to hear. If only she could listen in on their conversations then she'd know what exactly their plan was with her.
Bzzzzt!
Strings of electricity washed over her brain like a huge wave.
Even though she had already expected it as it happened so many times it didn't make it hurt any less. But at least she didn't pass out from it anymore. She didn't even get paralysed.
However she still pretended to be knocked out because otherwise they'd give her a much higher dosage.
On the other hand, there was this voice in her head. It didn't sound human yet she slowly started to understand them.
Before it had only been bits of pieces. Now a full sentence was ringing clear as if whispered right into her ears,
"They have to be stopped."
Seems like her companion was also starting to understand her as well.
Safu tried to follow their example, "Who are you?"
It was quiet for a while. She wasn't sure if it was cause that being was thinking over her question or their responses were delayed. Like having bad connection.
"You may call me Elyurias, little Safu."
What an unusual name. Something she's never heard before not even as a word from another language.
While she was curious she refrained herself from asking more questions. Now was not the time. Plus she had a feeling she'd get a good picture of who and maybe what exactly that Elyurias is very soon.
"Alright, Elyurias."
There was no point in introducing herself when the other party already called her by her name. No matter how suspicious it was, she decided it was best to go along with it for now.
"Do you have a plan?"
"Yes," they replied much faster this time.
All of a sudden Safu saw bright images flashing before her inner eye. It took her a moment to recognise them as various screens. There was even what looked like camera footage.
At the same time, the overload of information made her head feel like it's spining and cracking at the same time.
Yet she much welcomed this pain which was arguably worse. A small price to pay for regaining her freedom.
Elyurias didn't tell her exactly what she should do. But it took Sayu only seconds to come up with the best way to use the mighty tool she was given.
First she made an alarm go off so the scientists would leave.
As soon as no one was left inside the room, she opened up the capsule and finally stepped out of it. Or rather she stumbled out of it and somehow managed to separate from the tubes. At least she didn't have to worry about getting them off anymore.
However, it took her a bit to stand up as her body was weakened from being coped up for so long. Even though her limbs were sluggish it was such a relief to not be under water anymore and be able to move freely again.
Once she had managed to get on her feet without falling she looked around the room until she found it. A set of clothes. One of the only things she could make out when she first came here was how one of the scientists secretly kept some extra clothing in her drawer. At the time she had deemed that information useless. Now it came in handy. Especially since the full body suit she was wearing was wet and uncomfortable. Plus and more importantly the lab coat would help her blend in.
After getting changed she made Elyurias take her to the heart of the lab. Thanks to a digital map and the ability to open any electric door she made it to the room in no time.
There she walked up to a glass capsule similar to but bigger than her own. What caught her eyes first were the traluscent wings which she imagined to be much prettier in flight. Next was the rest of the body which was very similar to a wasp or a bee.
She knew what or rather who it was without being needed to be told.
"We're almost there." Elyurias urged her which she was quick to oblige.
In no time did she get her prideful companion out.
Yet instead of flying to their freedom they headed to giant computer and started attacking it.
Safu was frozen at first until she ran up to her temporary ally.
"Wait!" she shouted, voice chords straining from the sudden use in so long.
"If you break it then everything will blow up!"
"So what?" they retorted in such a cold tone.
After steeling herself, Safu spoke up again in a clearer voice, "Everyone will die."
When she saw them reaching out to smash the console again, she quickly added, "That includes you and me too."
It was quiet for a moment as the two continued to stare at each other.
"You want to live." A statement, not a rhetorical question.
"Didn't you want to help me escape?" Safu asked, "To get me away from those awful people?" She wrapped her arms around herself, a weak attempt to shake off everything they did to her. Yet the memories would haunt her forever.
"There are still awful people," Elyurias pointed out, "They're everywhere."
It wasn't only the scientists. It wasn't only the government. No 6 was full of bad actors. Safu was all too aware of it.
But at the same time, she considered herself lucky to have been close to good people. Like Shion, her best friend and one-sided crush. Like Karen who was like a second mother to her. Like her grandmother who she missed dearly. Yet she was nowhere near ready to see her again, not like that.
"You're right Elyurias and I won't deny that."
Sayu took one more step closer to them to gently caress their arm.
"We've both been hurt by them. Yet instead of thinking of them I'd rather spend my time being with the people — the good people — I love."
She stroked their arm one last time before pulling away.
"So while you may only seek revenge I don't. I just want to go home. No, I'm going home."
Once again they were caught in a staring contest. Technically Safu lost for the second time. Not that it mattered.
Finally, Elyurias deflected.
"I suppose it's only fair that I give back to the human who helped me."
All of a sudden a gust of wind enveloped Safu.
"Elyurias—"
"You want to go home. So let me take you there."
Without awaiting her reply the metaphorical taxi started its engine.
The journey went as expected. Safu was beyond dizzy afterwards. She wasn't sure how it was possible that she survived that. It was a miracle that she didn't even have any injuries.
After regaining her sense of self she took notice of a sweet and a familiar scent. A moment later two strong arms were wrapping around her for a tight embrace.
Karen.
Then it finally sunk in. She was back home after what felt like a neverending nightmare.
The queue has finished delivering gifts for now, but there are four gifts either on extension or pinch hit. If you haven't received your gift yet, first check the blog for your name to see if you missed it. If you still don't see it, it's likely one of these four gifts. You can message us to confirm, or just sit tight, and you will receive your gift soon. This event promises gifts to all giftees, and we will make sure you get your gift.
Thank you so much to everyone who participated this year! This has been an amazing year for the secret santa. So much love and care went into these gifts. I love each and every one of them. Happy holidays!
Every year I foist my request for a wing AU on someone, so when I saw your request for one I had to laugh. I figured the universe was telling me it was finally time for me to put my money where my mouth was and write my own No. 6 wingfic. If you'd like to see the other ones, just search the no6secretsanta blog for my name - Vox - or the word "wing". There are a few things in the wing search that are unrelated, but it looks like ratbandaid wrote one for someone else as well.
This fic is set in the Reunion era, but I've not actually read Reunion, so the No. 6 discord helped me pick a few canonically accurate details to include. They also voted to have Nezumi tinker with his robot mice after I blanked on an activity for him. If any of the rest of it contradicts canon, well, it's an AU. It has a happy ending, so don't be dismayed by Nezumi's lack of wings at the beginning.
Happy holidays! I hope you like it!
___
“Nezumi, look!”
Nezumi duly lifted his head and looked up from his book. Shion was kneeling on the carpet beside the sofa Nezumi was lying on, picking something up from the floor.
“What?” Nezumi said.
Shion raised his hand. Cupped in his palm was a single black feather.
“Look! It’s yours. It has to be,” Shion said excitedly. “I would’ve noticed if I had a black one.” His own wings were white with striking crimson primary feathers, and in his excitement they were hovering half-open on either sides of his shoulders.
Nezumi looked down at the feather, something sharp and cold condensing in the pit of his stomach.
“So I still have a few feathers left to moult. So what?”
As he spoke, his body curled in on itself ever-so-slightly, his knees drawing closer to his chest and his shoulders tensing. His involuntary reaction was irritating. He had no wings to shield himself with, so what was the point? They had broken and burned away long ago, in the fire that destroyed his home.
“So, this is the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Shion said, his excitement undiminished by Nezumi’s cold reaction. “They could be growing back!”
“Who cares?” Nezumi snapped.
Finally Shion paused, looking confused rather than chagrined. “You don’t think it’s possible? Why not?”
It wasn’t that Nezumi didn’t think it was possible. Unfortunately, it was all too possible. He knew full well his wings would’ve survived that fire if his heart hadn’t been broken by the murder of his family and the genocide of his people. Cataclysmic grief and trauma were what truly broke someone’s wings. And in the same way, processing and healing could, for some people, make them grow back.
“I don’t want them,” Nezumi said finally.
“What? Why not?” Shion said, wrinkling his nose in confusion. “Think of all the places you could go if you had them.”
Sitting up straighter, Nezumi put the bookmark back in his book and folded his arms with a glare. “Is that all you can think about? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Shion tilted his head, seeming even more perplexed. He studied Nezumi for a long moment, then said, “I would’ve thought that a wanderer like you would be happy to have more freedom of movement.”
Nezumi took a deep breath, willing Shion one last time to drop the fucking subject. Shion hadn’t even put the feather down, and was still holding it in his palm like it wasn’t just a piece of garbage.
“Well, you thought wrong,” Nezumi said through gritted teeth. “Now will you please get rid of that thing?”
Looking down at the feather in his palm, Shion hesitated. “Can I put it in a box somewhere, or do I really have to throw it out?”
“Do what you want,” Nezumi said, feeling like his teeth were beginning to creak with the tension in his jaw. “Just put it somewhere I don’t have to see it.”
“Right.” Shion shot him a worried look, then left the room. Nezumi slumped back against the sofa like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out a miserable breath and putting the book over his face.
After a minute he sat up and opened the book. But he could immediately tell it would be fruitless to try and continue reading.
Stowing the book in his pocket, Nezumi got up from the sofa and left Karan’s house. He had been planning to have dinner there, but now he had no taste for it. As he walked through Lost Town, he turned his gaze away from the dark sky to the rubble of the wall below. The scars on his back ached, and he fiercely concentrated on the sensation. He couldn’t fly again. He wouldn’t. He had known it since the day he lost his wings.
⁂
A few days later, Nezumi was in his underground room tinkering with one of his robot mice, when there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, Shion was standing there with a plastic bag, looking apologetic.
“What’s that?” Nezumi said, raising an eyebrow at the bag as he let Shion in.
“It’s the dinner I owe you,” Shion said wryly. “Seeing as you didn’t stick around to eat it. I’m sorry, by the way. I—”
“No, wait a minute,” Nezumi said, shutting the door behind Shion and coming back to stand in front of him again. “I want to get the full effect of this performance.”
Shion rolled his eyes, but the tense set of his mouth relaxed. “Yes, you can grade me on it. Listen. I’m sorry I pushed you about your wings. I still don’t understand why you were upset. I always want to understand as much as I can about you, but it really wasn’t my business. I should’ve known better.”
Nezumi tilted his head and said, “Six out of ten. I took three points off for stating the obvious. That’s what you should know better about. But your genuine emotion won over the judges by a narrow margin.”
Shion spluttered a laugh, setting the bag down on the table. “I’ll take your feedback under advisement. How have you been?”
“Fine,” Nezumi said, though in truth the past few days had weighed heavily on him. “What did you do with the feather?”
“Huh?” Shion said, looking surprised. “I put it in my bedside table drawer. Why?”
Nezumi looked away, letting the expected wave of pain flow through him. Getting rid of his feathers had always hurt, but even thinking of keeping them had been far, far worse. His family would’ve treated them as sacred, storing all of his feathers away from the age of his first moult until he was on the cusp of adulthood. Then they would have used them to make a special cloak that represented all the wisdom he’d gained since he was a child. Wrapped in his own feathers, he would have gone forth as a newly respected adult member of his clan.
But even knowing that, Nezumi had never been able to treat them as special. Letting Shion keep a feather as some kind of token for now was a compromise between what Nezumi knew to be right and what he could tolerate. He was ashamed of all the ones he’d lost and given up, but without his wings, he would never have enough for a cloak. A thin scarf would’ve been possible at best, and that would’ve been painful.
Nezumi took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “There may be others,” he admitted. “Don’t get excited about it.”
"Others?” Shion said, momentarily confused. “Oh. Feathers. But Nezumi, I thought you said—”
“I know what I said,” Nezumi interrupted. He sighed theatrically, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Even if every single one of them grows back, it won’t change anything. I’m not flying.”
The following silence from Shion was deafening. Nezumi could practically feel him bursting with questions. With only his teeth and lips to keep them contained, it seemed to take Shion a herculean effort to hold them back. But he did.
Nezumi gave a quieter sigh — a real one, and hated himself for it. He turned his gaze away from Shion’s face and said, “My body might betray my family, but I won’t.”
Nezumi knew that his heart was healing. That his soul was healing. If they weren’t, he never would’ve been able to return to No. 6. But that didn’t mean he was ready for his wings to grow back, even if his body thought it was time. It was a kick in the teeth that the universe was finally returning something it had taken to him, only to do it in a way he didn’t want.
“Betray your family?” Shion blurted out. “I mean — sorry. I just—”
After watching Shion struggle for a moment, Nezumi said, “Ask your question, Shion.”
“Why would it be betraying them to fly?”
At that, Nezumi actually raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “None of them will ever fly again. Why should I?”
Shion blinked. He opened his mouth, and Nezumi braced himself, his heart suddenly pounding. He recognised the look in Shion’s eye. It was a “third option” kind of look.
“That’s not true,” Shion said, as if he were the one stating plainly obvious facts. “If you fly, they’ll go with you. You’ll carry them with you, Nezumi. When I fly, I bring Safu.”
Nezumi stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to believe that spiritual mumbo jumbo you just spouted?”
“I’m serious.” The look in Shion’s eyes now was a special kind of deep-seated grief he only ever got when he was thinking of Safu. Even Nezumi couldn’t bring himself to believe Shion could be lying with a face like that.
For a moment Nezumi thought about it. What it would be like if he flew, and felt his family with him. The thought was nauseatingly terrifying.
Something of what he was thinking must have shown in his eyes, because Shion said gently, “I struggled with that too, when you were away. After the wall fell, I realised my flight feathers were growing back.” Citizens of No. 6 weren’t allowed to fly without a special permit. Shion’s feathers had been clipped for the first sixteen years of his life. “Safu and I used to hop and glide over obstacles or down from ladders and chairs when we were kids, but she never really got the chance to fly. I thought for a long time about whether I should try flying for myself, and if it would be betraying her. But when I was finally in the air I realised… well, it’s hard to explain.”
“Try your best,” Nezumi said drily.
“Shush.” Shion shot Nezumi a brief amused look before returning to his serious tone. “Maybe it’s because Elyurias was here, and this place is special. I don’t know. But the wind is a great equaliser. It’s always flying around us even if we’re not flying in it.”
Something in Nezumi’s gut resonated with what Shion was saying, although he didn’t understand the actual words. Realising that was giving him a headache.
“You’re making no sense.”
“Oh, well…” Shion started, frowning in deep concentration. Then he gave up, shaking his head. “At least for you, your family’s genes are in your body. If you fly, they literally will be flying too. If you don’t want to, I would understand. I just don’t think you should give it up without thinking about it a little more. We have sympathetically regenerating wings for a reason.”
“I’ve had a lifetime to think about what No. 6 stole from me. I’m trying not to do that anymore.”
“But this isn’t No. 6. It’s your own body. And I’m asking you to think about what you could gain,” Shion said, that determined look in his eye once again.
Nezumi held up a hand to signal he was done with this conversation. “We don’t even know for sure my wings are coming back. It could be years, if it happens at all.”
“And if it’s not?”
For a moment, Nezumi hesitated. A large part of him still wanted to say he would never fly again. It wasn’t that he didn’t think flying could be enjoyable or worthwhile. It was that the idea of flying again felt profoundly wrong to him. Dishonourable, perhaps. Selfish. Undeserved.
Nezumi didn’t know if he could get past that feeling. It felt so big and final. But Nezumi’s hatred for No. 6 had felt so big and final too — and yet still, he’d asked Elyurias for mercy. And although it was perhaps an order of magnitude smaller his own, he did respect the validity of Shion’s loss and his experience of grief. A vain wish flitted through his heart, that Shion was somehow right. Nezumi gritted his teeth, recognising that wish for what it truly was.
It was Shion finding the chink in his armour, getting under his skin. Only Shion was capable of doing this to him.
“I’ll worry about it then,” Nezumi said begrudgingly. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
As the words left his mouth, Nezumi could have sworn he felt his shoulder-blades expand as if they were breathing. As if his wings were already there, immaterial and invisible, simply waiting to be called forth.
⁂
As more and more feathers grew in, Nezumi’s back became tender, with a low-level bruiselike ache that was easily alleviated by sitting in front of something warm. It was nothing compared to the agonising inferno his wings had first burnt up in. The process wasn’t the slightest bit gory, or even bloody. He simply woke up, or glanced at himself in the mirror, and saw that the feathered chrysalis on his back was a fraction bigger than it had been the day, or the hour, before.
Part of Nezumi wished the process would just hurry up. Waiting for it to be over was agonising — mainly because he couldn’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard he tried. He spent more time in Lost Town, or invited Shion to spend the night with him. Shion was a great distraction, and to his credit, said nothing about the wings at all. It was better to have him there in the middle of the night, when Nezumi woke up and felt the weight of history smothering him from behind. Shion’s warmth and the soft noises of his breathing would pull Nezumi back to the present. Waves of grief would wash over him, but somehow by morning he would always have fallen asleep again, and would wake surprised.
After around six months, the wings detached from his back. It was as seamless and physically painless as the rest of the process. Nezumi simply stretched, and suddenly they sprang free.
It had been around four weeks since that day. After checking on them every day, Nezumi was confident the wings were done growing. He kept them furled unless he was safely out of range of witnesses or mirrors, and the knowledge that he physically could fly remained his secret.
Despite having seven months to think about it, Nezumi still wrestled with the question of whether he would try to fly again or not. He told himself he just needed time.
It was as he was walking home from Lost Town again one day that it hit him. The answer was right there, staring him in the face. He looked at the sky above the broken wall of No. 6, and turned back to Shion and Karan’s house.
⁂
Several days later, Nezumi and Shion stood in the shadow of that very same wall. Shion looked doubtfully up at the distant, crumbling top.
“You’re really serious about this?”
“I have wings, Shion. I won’t die. That’s the point,” Nezumi snapped. He was already regretting his decision, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“I know you would survive a fall, but you could be crushed!” Shion said, gesturing emphatically. Nezumi rolled his eyes.
“Just get on with it, Shion.”
Shion let out an annoyed sigh, but Nezumi could see the worry in his eyes. Though soon it shifted as Shion’s mind switched gears, and a calculating, focussed expression took its place.
“Right,” Shion said, nodding decisively. He fastened the chest and waist straps of his backpack. Then he spread his wings and leapt.
Nezumi had seen Shion fly before. In fact, Shion loved flying. It seemed to have become one of his favourite activities, no matter the weather. The first time Nezumi opened the door and found Shion there in a raincoat with water absolutely streaming from both wings, Nezumi had banned him from flying over in bad weather. Mainly because the amount of water that could run off a pair of wings would’ve required a floor drain to remove from his room.
Still, Nezumi had to admit he liked seeing Shion fly. He seemed so happy — so free, so young. In a way, having his wings clipped had saved him. He had no bad flight-related experiences thanks to No. 6, because he had no flight-related experiences prior to its destruction at all. Only the clipping itself and the lack of the ability to fly had been traumatic to him. Having wings and being in the air were his joy.
Shion’s alabaster and crimson wings flashed in the sunlight as he rose effortlessly to the top of the wall. With a messy series of flaps, he vanished as he landed. There was no movement or sound for several minutes. Then Shion’s distant figure reappeared, tossing a rope down the side of the wall.
Nezumi knew he was not going to be able to climb a rope up the entire height of the wall. That would’ve been a ridiculous proposition. What he was going to do was climb up the rubble on one side of the break, and secure himself with the rope just in case. It was a precaution Shion had insisted on when Nezumi first declared his plan. They even had a climbing harness, which Nezumi was already wearing. All he had to do was attach the rope with the belaying device and he would be ready.
At first the going was easy. The rubble near the base of the wall was widely dispersed, and there were plenty of hand- and foot-holds, and Nezumi’s hands were protected from the rough cement chunks by gloves. He climbed up the first third of the way easily and fairly quickly.
It was as the mound of rubble ended that the climb became more difficult. Nezumi began having to place his hands and feet more carefully, on increasingly smaller ledges. Although his endurance was high from all the walking he’d done in the past two years, and his legs could keep going for many miles, his arms grew tired faster than he’d expected.
But Nezumi gritted his teeth, refusing to even consider giving up. He focussed on the immediate area in front of him, not looking up to check his progress. He didn’t spare a glance for the city below. He simply kept going, hand over hand, fingers seeking their next purchase, wings held tight to his body, as his hands and feet carried him higher.
Just one more minute, he told himself over and over. See, this is easy. You made it a few feet. You can do it again. And then he did. Inch by inch, minute by minute, Nezumi climbed so high he felt the air turn cold around him.
In the last twenty feet or so, the wall became nearly impossible to climb. There were cracks in the wall so thin he could barely even feel them through his gloves. Nezumi glanced up once, then pulled his gloves off one after the other with his teeth. In his haste and exhaustion he fumbled them, and one dropped from his mouth. Rather than falling straight down it was immediately picked up by the wind and blew away like a leaf. Gritting his teeth, Nezumi reached for the next handhold as best he could. Moments later, his feet slipped.
This is it, he thought to himself. I won’t be getting to the top.
But no sooner had he thought it than the harness around his waist cut into him, at the same time as his feet found purchase once more. Letting out a shaky sigh, Nezumi kept climbing onward.
Despite knowing that he was close to the top, he was startled when he reached up and found only air above him. He pressed both palms to the top of the wall. Then, hands wrapped around his forearms as Shion helped him up.
Nezumi hadn’t asked Shion to help him, but he barely had the strength left to make it to safety, and was glad of the help. He collapsed onto his stomach, letting Shion half-drag him several feet away from the edge. For a few minutes he lay there panting with exhaustion, until Shion handed him a bottle of water. Then Nezumi sat up enough to start gulping it down. Shion took the opportunity to wrap a blanket around his shoulders. When Shion handed him an oat bar from the bakery, Nezumi ate it ravenously, and felt a bit of strength come back into his limbs.
“You did it,” Shion said wonderingly. Nezumi shot him an unimpressed look.
“You doubted me? As if we both don’t know you’re capable,” Nezumi said once his mouth was no longer full.
“You really think so?” Shion said, seemingly taken aback. Nezumi just shrugged. As far as he was concerned, anyone who could climb a mountain of corpses could easily climb the wall of No. 6.
After taking another oat bar from Shion, Nezumi took off the climbing harness. Shion packed it away in his bag, along with the coil of lightweight climbing rope and the blanket Nezumi had been using. He offered Nezumi his hand, and Nezumi stood. Together they approached the edge of the wall.
The city of No. 6 was spread out beneath them in all its ruined glory. Light glittered from a thousand points of metal and glass, but Nezumi’s eye was drawn to the conspicuous vacant space once held by the Correctional Facility. The Moondrop, too, really did look like an insignificant blister. His chest suddenly filled with a nameless, wordless emotion. He’d reached many high places and seen many beautiful views in the years he’d been away from No. 6, but none of them had been like this.
“It’s so small,” Nezumi said. His tone came out with far more emotion than he’d intended. Shion simply nudged Nezumi’s shoulder with his wing and said nothing. When Nezumi looked over at Shion’s face, he thought perhaps Shion understood.
“Are you ready?” Shion asked.
Nezumi smiled. “Yes.”
“And?”
Nezumi spread his wings. Instantly the wind caught them. Without him having to jump or even flap, he was lifted up into the sky.
Nezumi’s heart swelled until it felt like it could burst out of his chest. He tilted his wings and banked effortlessly, circling around in a great swooping arc. The world grew blurry, and he blinked a few times before realising tears were trickling down his face. Although he wished he could say it was from the strength of the wind, he knew it was solely because of his own feelings. But high up here, above the world, who else but he would know if his heart transgressed?
After gliding in circles for a few minutes, Nezumi’s tears stopped of their own accord. He looked down and saw Shion staring up at him openly. Nezumi thought he saw a glint of wetness on Shion’s cheeks as well, and shook his head to himself.
There’s no need to be so dramatic, he thought. I’m the one who regrew his wings, not you.
Briefly, Nezumi considered landing. But instead, he raised one hand and beckoned to Shion.
The expression on Shion’s face changed to one of beaming joy. He opened his wings and lifted up into the air, then began flapping to catch up to Nezumi. When he arrived he was panting and smiling, his eyes still sparkling.
“Oh, Nezumi!” he exclaimed. “Look at your wings!”
Raising an eyebrow, Nezumi turned his head. It took him a moment before he saw what Shion was seeing.
The wind was sweeping over Nezumi’s jet-black feathers, ruffling the countless tiny plumes. They rippled like stalks in a cornfield, waves passing over their glossy black surfaces. Far from being plain, they held countless rainbow colours hidden iridescently within. A familiar colour caught Nezumi’s eye, then another. Though it had been years since he had seen his family’s wings, shock shot through him as he recognised the sky blue of his father’s wings, and the deep salmon of his mother’s. Even the light pink of his little sister’s and the dark emerald of his Gran’s were there. Yet though they were present, his wings felt the same. They didn’t hurt, and nor did they feel burdened. His family was simply there.
“Was this what you meant?” Nezumi said, turning sharply to Shion.
“No! I had no idea!” It was obvious Shion was being honest. He didn’t even seem to know what Nezumi was talking about, only that it was important. How could he, when out of everyone in the world, only Nezumi knew those colours?
Nezumi took a deep breath, working through his shock. Then he gave Shion a small smile.
“Well, come on then,” Nezumi said. “Show me how to get to your mom’s house.”
“You sure?” Shion said. Nezumi nodded, and Shion took the lead.
The wind blew. Shion and Nezumi glided effortlessly through the sky, their flight a circling dance like birds before the sun.
Shion slid his hands down his pale green shirt, smoothing the crisp fabric and frowning at the mirror. “Would the blue be better?”
“Your mama’s not going to care what you’re wearing, Shion.” Nezumi called from where he sprawled on the bed.
Their old room in West Block had been left untouched while Nezumi and Shion were away. Returning to the space felt familiar. After a good dusting and airing out, the pair were pleasantly surrounded by the mementos of a life lived together.
Shion huffed, eyes turning to his unruly hair. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least try to look nice.”
Shion began attempting to smooth disobedient bits of hair into place. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of a book snapping shut and approaching footsteps. Giving up on his hair, he turned his attention to the astonishing amount of lint built up on his pants. Arms wrapped around him from behind. His body relaxed back into Nezumi as he straightened to make room for the solid comfort of his arms.
“You look like you’re going to be late.” Nezumi said, lips curling up at the edges.
“We’re not–” Shion started. Nezumi lifted his arm, filling Shion’s vision with the watch from in No. 3. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Nezumi echoed, his smirk softening into a smile. “Come on. You already made Inukashi wait what, five years for this? Gonna make them wait longer?”
“Okay,” Shion sighed. “Let’s go.” He glanced at his reflection one last time as Nezumi tugged him to the door.
~~ ~~
The park where the Correctional Facility once stood was now a sort of garden. Lush greenery lined walkways and spread out into open areas. Flowers popped from the green, blooming in a variety of colors. Benches scattered about the place, some full some empty, and in the near distance children giggled running around a playground. Shion brushed his fingers over a chrysanthemum as he looked for his mother or Inukashi.
They were setting up not far from the playground; his mother was setting out a blanket while Rikiga orbited around her nodding and offering various items and generally looking oblivious to the nuisance he was being. Inukashi stood apart from them watching little Shion run around the playground, a large white dog flopped at their feet.
Shion tugged at the bottom of his shirt, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Nezumi caught his wrist, gently tugging Shion to face him.
“Here.” Nezumi revealed a freshly plucked purple aster, tucking it behind Shion’s ear. Shion blushed as Nezumi’s fingers trailed down his face, tracing his scar. “Perfect. Now, shall we go see Mama Karen?”
Inukashi perked up as they spotted the pair. “I was starting to think you bailed on me!”
“As though we would pass up on Karan’s cooking.” Nezumi scoffed. He brushed past Inukashi, accepting a quick hug from Karan before he began pulling containers from the basket she’d brought and arranging them on the blanket. Rikiga huffed in annoyance and left him to it, following Karan to greet Shion.
“Sorry we’re late.” Shion said as his mother pulled him into a hug of his own. “We didn’t make you wait too long, did we?”
Karan tightened her grip for a moment before letting go. “Not long at all. Come sit, come sit. Are you hungry? I made plenty, so have as much as you want.”
“Shion!” Rikiga clapped him on the shoulder with a wide smile. “Good to see you. Traveling with Eve hasn’t been too stressful, has it?”
“Of the two of us, I’d think I was the more stressful to deal with.” Shion settled next to Nezumi, who had made quick work of setting the food out and was now busying himself with loading up a plate.
Rikiga reached for a sandwich. “Well, if you ever want a different travelling companion–”
Nezumi snatched the sandwich Rikiga had been reaching for before he could touch it.
“Eve!”
Nezumi cocked his head to one side, eyes wide with overexaggerated innocence. “What?”
“You third-rate–”
Karan thwapped Rikiga’s arm. “Leave them be. You shouldn’t have been antagonizing him in the first place.”
Inukashi dropped into the spot beside Shion, cackling. “Serves you right, old man.”
Any protest Rikiga might’ve made was headed off by little Shion, who came racing to the blanket yelling, “Mama, Mama look!” The boy brandished a large stick.
Inukashi nodded in approval. “Pretty good stick.”
Karan smiled and gestured to a spot on the blanket between herself and Inukashi. “Why don’t you set your stick down and come have some lunch?”
“‘Kay.” Little Shion dropped down and pointed to the flower still in Shion’s hair. “That’s pretty.”
“Thank you.”
Compliment given, little Shion started stuffing his face, looking like a mini mirror to his parent as they did the same.
Shion relaxed, half leaning back against Nezumi as he nibbled at the food and caught up with the people he cared most about. Nezumi joined Shion in the telling of their best stories. Nezumi added poetry to the dance of vast oceans and depth to the revival of healing forests as they crept up mountainsides, while Shion grounded the recounting with details of work done and discoveries made. Inukashi spent the meal bragging about how well little Shion was doing, joined by little Shion in praising Karan’s cooking as their plates were filled again and again. Eventually, little Shion ran off to play again, the dog trotting after him.
Shion was struck by a little pang of regret that it had taken him so long to come back for this. He had missed the people he’d left behind and he felt them missing him. Next time he wouldn't stay away so long. He was sure Nezumi wouldn't mind. They wouldn’t stop wandering entirely, neither of them were quite ready to settle down yet, but they could come back to visit more often.
Little Shion came back as Nezumi and Karan started packing up the remains of their picnic, his stick had been replaced with a bundle of flowers. Asters in an array of colors. He shoved a white one at Inukashi. “For Mama.”
They took it. “What’d you pick these for?”
“So we can match!” He held out a pink flower for Karan. Rikiga got yellow, and Nezumi was given purple. “So you extra match.”
“Thank you.” Nezumi handed the flower off to Shion, “Would Your Majesty do the honors?”
The stem was too long to properly fit behind Nezumi’s ear, so Shion had to shorten it before sliding it into place. He caught himself mapping Nezumi’s features as he pulled back. The flower looked natural against his hair and seemed to soften his eyes, he looked like a woodland fairy. “Perfect.”
“Then we extra match.”
Inukashi made a retching sound. “Will you two knock it off? We were so close to having a good day.”
Shion laughed a little. They planned on sticking around for another week or two. When the two were back home from their picnic Shion carefully placed the flowers in paper, pressing them under books, preserving their memory. A reminder of those left behind and far away. A promise to always come back.
Shion knew it was a matter of time before Nezumi made good on his word and left No. 6 to embark on his travels. Luckily for him, that time was in the distant future as Nezumi resolved to heal his body from the various gunshot wounds before he dared venture out.
Shion hummed softly to himself, watching Nezumi fix them both a coffee early in the morning. The two of them had become quite the morning birds, even beating his mom to the kitchen. Nezumi had his hair tied down rather than his usual high ponytail, a hairstyle that Shion had done this morning while the other boy had been struggling to wake up.
Shion was surprised the other boy had even let him touch his hair when he had no experience tying hair. He had been even more surprised that Nezumi had elected to keep wearing his hair in the style Shion had done for him.
“Here you go, darling prince,” Nezumi said, his teasing voice dripping with mirth.
Shion smiled earnestly, “What an honor that you keep making me coffee in the mornings. I thought you said you’d stop.”
“I won’t do it tomorrow,” Nezumi answered lightly, sitting down in the chair across from Shion and sipping from his mug.
What a liar, Shion almost barked out with a laugh, considering that Nezumi had been using that line since last week. He must have truly wormed his way past all of Nezumi’s sharp defenses for him to no longer mind making Shion coffee in the morning without complaints. It was that or he had become used to their domestic schedule.
The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, drinking their coffee, and eating from the cookies Shion had been able to save from his mom’s batch from last night. They had become Nezumi’s favorites, so he and his mom had baked a lot of them so there had been plenty of leftovers after the shop closed.
“Do you think they’ll let us go all the way back to the house today?” Nezumi asked.
Shion shook his head, looking up from his cup, “I seriously doubt it. Mom says that area is still being cleaned up and Inukashi sent message from their dogs that it is very messy out there. We’ll have to wait until things are clearer.”
Nezumi pouted and let out an exaggerated sigh that had become very familiar since these past three days. Shion suppressed a sigh of his own as he already knew what was coming.
“Nezu-.”
“What is a man if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed?” Nezumi recited loudly, spreading one of his arms out as if he were back performing on stage, “A beast, no more!”
Shion was both amused and miffed as Nezumi stood up to continue his performance. Apparently, he had not grown tired of repeating the same lines from Hamlet to express his dissatisfaction of being kept away from his books during his recovery.
“Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and godlike reason to fust in us unused!”
“Nezumi,” Shion chided softly, “The doctor said that your leg is still injured enough where walking that distance can hurt you. Not to mention, again, that the area is still being cleaned up so, even if we left the house, we would have a hard time reaching home.”
“I’m bored,” Nezumi answered, sitting down back on his chair with a small huff, “I haven’t read any of my books in days and I can feel myself stagnate.”
“We’ll get you books as soon as we’re able to,” Shion comforted Nezumi, “I know that you don’t like just staying home after spending years working consistently, but recovery is crucial. You have to focus on healing those gunshot wounds.”
“I know that. I’m not an idiot,” Nezumi answered, drinking his coffee, “I just know that things would be easier if I could read something to pass the time. As much as I love your company, you’re no Shakespeare.”
Shion grumbled, “You’ve read those books at least three times since we’ve lived together. I think you can survive a week without them.”
“A week?” Nezumi frowned, “I will leave this place on my own to get my books, wounds be damned, in order to get good reading material to cure my boredom.”
“You will not.”
“Try to stop me.”
Shion knew it would be very easy to stop Nezumi in his condition but figured Nezumi would hate his answer. While Nezumi smugly drank his coffee, thinking he still had some sort of advantage, Shion racked his head with what he could do to solve this recent headache for him. He knew Nezumi would not give up unless he got what he wanted. Once he made up his mind on something, it was hard to get it out.
Things had been going so well, too. Nezumi had been listening to the doctor’s orders to spend his days in bed resting, eating, and sleeping. He had been incredibly good about taking his medication to deal with his pain. He had even been sweeter on Shion, a development that still left his heart racing in a pleasant way.
Nezumi was sweet but he was also quite sour when boredom set in. Shion liked Nezumi’s sweet and tender moments when he wasn’t bored. He would be singing up a storm for Shion or cooking some recipe his mom had given him. He would even be sweet enough to sleep holding Shion’s hand, despite his teasing that only children slept holding hands.
What could he do to cheer him up? He really couldn’t get Nezumi’s books, although he had asked Inukashi if they were able to retrieve at least one book with the help of the dogs. They were working on it, but that book wouldn’t be able to make it in time before Nezumi’s boredom kicked in.
That left only one option.
“To be, or not to be, that is the question,” Shion started, watching Nezumi as recognition kicked in at the famous monologue from Hamlet. He coughed, continuing, “whether it’s-.”
“Tis.”
“Tis nobler in the mind to suffer the swings-.”
“Slings.”
“Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To die – to sleep, no more,” Shion shook his head, “I don’t really remember the rest. I haven’t read it is as often as you.”
Nezumi looked delighted, “And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. When did you memorize part of Hamlet’s great soliloquy? I didn’t think you’d have theater skills at all.”
Shion shrugged, smiling softly despite himself, “You recite Hamlet so much that I remembered parts of it.”
Nezumi stirred his mug, “Is that so? You continue to impress, Shion, even if your Hamlet is lackluster.”
“What a stunning compliment.”
“Ha.”
The two of them continued their coffee drinking while reciting Hamlet. Well, Nezumi did most of the reciting while Shion tried his best to keep up. He hadn’t read the play as often as Nezumi had but he remembered enough because he remembered how precious a book it was to the boy he loved dearly. How could he not remember something so beloved by his loved one?
The reciting of Hamlet left Nezumi in an upbeat mood the whole morning. That allowed them to eat more cookies and even a few pastries they had missed yesterday. They did Nezumi’s stretches that the doctor had ordered together while talking about Nezumi’s books. Well, more like Nezumi did most of the talking while Shion gave his thoughts between the pauses.
They helped his mom baking her famous bread and cookies with Nezumi passing them ingredients mixing the batches while Shion shaped them and putting them in the oven with his mom.
When the shop opened, Nezumi watched them start passing bread, often giving his thoughts about the person that had entered once the person left. Those comments were rude most of the times so Shion eventually had to take Nezumi out for a walk around the street.
Nezumi’s leg sometimes dragged during their small walk, still recovering from the gunshot wound, so Shion doubled as the other’s cane to help him get around. When Nezumi needed to stop for a break, they found a spot to sit and look up. Together, they watched the beautiful sky dotted by lazy clouds that slowly drifted in the vastness of the world above them.
“I’m tired,” Nezumi sighed, always hating to be weak.
Shion smiled, “I was getting tired too.”
“No you weren’t,” Nezumi grumbled, standing, “You’re trying to be nice again.”
He didn’t have a retort to that since he was trying to be considerate of Nezumi’s feelings. Nezumi was used to being the stronger one between the two of them. Unfortunately, due to his injuries, he was now the “weak” one and Shion was the “strong” one.
It was a childish thought process, but it was endearing to Shion that Nezumi still had it in him to be childish.
They walked back to the bakery where Nezumi swiped a couple of breads as they went back to their shared room. If Nezumi was as exhausted as he thought, Shion figured that he was going to take a long rest until it was lunchtime.
Nezumi laid down in bed, removing his hair tie so his hair splayed all around him. Shion quietly joined him as Nezumi squirmed around to find a comfortable spot. They stared up at the ceiling like they had the sky, caught in another comfortable silence. Shion’s hand reached out to hold Nezumi’s hand and he felt the other immediately grab it. No words needed to be spoken. They had gone through so much that asking for something as simple as holding hands was unnecessary.
Shion closed his eyes, “Nezumi?”
“Hm?”
“Do you still have any songs you haven’t sung to me?”
Nezumi shifted and Shion opened his eyes, turning his head, to see Nezumi looking at him with a soft expression. It was one of Shion’s favorite expression to see, and it had become one the most common ways that Nezumi looked at him.
“I have a new one for you.”
“For me?”
Nezumi playfully flicked his finger at Shion, an action that held no real weight because Nezumi was smiling. He was really smiling, a smile that didn’t have any snark or edge. It was warm and sweet, beautifully soft and tender. He could almost lose himself staring into the depths of affection Nezumi had for him.
“Yes, for you. I thought of a song for you.”
Nezumi scooted closer and Shion did the same until their foreheads touched. His wonderful Nezumi’s warmth was an inferno, enveloping Shion and leaving him breathless. How long had he waited outside the surgery room hoping that this warmth wouldn’t leave Nezumi? How long had he waited, hoping that he wouldn’t feel the cold and lifeless body of his beloved Nezumi who had changed his life forever?
Wasn’t he lucky?
His Nezumi was alive. He was not completely healed, yet but he was alive. Nezumi was alive and he loved Shion just as much as he loved Nezumi.
“Me, together with you,” Nezumi sang to him, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear gently, “We head to the distant star below. To eternity, or perhaps even beyond. You and me, or ‘we’.”
The two of them had resolved to die together. . . it was easier to resolve to live together. Whether that meant physically together or far apart didn’t matter. At least it was the two of them doing something together.
Shion tightened his grip on Nezumi’s hand, closing his eyes again as Nezumi continued his song. Could he hear his heart that was beating thanks to him? He had saved Nezumi’s life and Nezumi had saved his. Their joined hearts were only able to beat thanks to each other.
It was the two of them together, no matter what.
“When twilight falls and gently embraces us. . . Our hearts burst into joyful bloom. We ride the wind to a place beyond time.”
Shion let Nezumi’s voice lull him into a place between wake and sleep, listening as Nezumi’s voice grew even softer like he was singing a lullaby. Shion listened to his song, to his heartbeat, to his breath and felt himself drifting slowly towards sleep.
“If I’m with you, this love. . .”
If he woke up later with his fingers tangled in Nezumi’s hair, their legs tangled, Nezumi’s face buried in his shoulder and his arm draped over Shion’s waist with their song still ringing in Shion’s ear, that was something between him and Nezumi.
Happy holidays! I’ll admit, I didn’t have a great December as I was filled with a lot of work stuff that sapped at me, so I actually started this gift with only 5 days left. I started writing for 2 days a concept . . . then hated it and started all over again. The “no angst” was a challenge and some peeks out in the text itself. The biggest challenge was the soft and comforting things, so I hope that I was able to convey their softness. I really tried on keeping them soft but in-character, especially when it takes place before Nezumi leaves.
My bed had No. 6 volumes and Hamlet on my bedside for two days straight as I made sense of my timeline and characterization. Nezumi and Shion, you two deserve a slice of life and I cannot give you all that.
The title of this fic comes from the song Nezumi sings. It is Karma by Rubyeye and C!nah. The version that most sounds like Nezumi is Karma by AKUGETSU so check it out!
I really hope you enjoyed because I had a blast writing this. It was a fun challenge!
Merry Christmas @Kiussart! I've had Inukashi and Nezumi's confrontation in my head since rewatching the anime, so I hope you enjoy my drawing of it here. Wishing you a wonderful new year!
I was inspired by Toi8’s artwork to make something using watercolors (something i’m not used to)! I wanted to create something that reflected Nezumis Darker and more pessimistic view of the world. Thank you so much for this opportunity and have an amazing christmas!!! Love from @slaugr :)
Happy holidays cheezykt! I love reading fluff but apparently not as good at writing it - hopefully there's enough domestic happiness to make a good gift. I had a ton of fun writing it so I hope you enjoy!
-- @fairysdarkestnight
“Hey Nezumi. Nezumi!” Shaking, then a deep sigh that carried the weight of someone who’d been up for hours. “I made some hot cocoa. It’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Nezumi groaned and rolled away from the voice that was trying to coax him from his cocoon of warmth. It was just too damn cold in No. 6 this time of year, and no amount of bribes would make him brave that. Living with Shion in the city had definitely made him soft, and the bitter cold mornings always made him feel that more pointedly. But also, having an electrically heated blanket was a luxury he was not going to give up any time soon.
“I also picked up some cherry cake from my mom’s shop, but if you don’t get out of bed soon I’ll eat it myself.”
Well, maybe he could be bribed just a little bit.
The actor blinked his eyes open and met the purple gaze of his partner, who was nearly bouncing with excitement beside the bed. A red hat with a puff ball on the end sat atop his head. “Come on, it’s Christmas!” An enthusiastic kiss (a little too enthusiastic for the sleepy morning) was pressed to his lips, and a matching hat was placed on his head. “Nezumi, I have the whole day planned out for us! There will be food, and dancing, and I spent the last month absolutely slaving away at work to get the Christmas Market up and running. You’re not going to ruin my plans with your stupidly attractive face.”
Said face broke into a grin, and Nezumi pulled Shion back into a more languid kiss. “We have all morning to spend together. I saw your agenda the other day. We have at least 45 minutes before we need to be anywhere.”
Shion laughed and pulled away. “Yes, and you’ll take an hour getting ready. I’ll meet you downstairs and we can head out.”
It was a rare occurrence when Nezumi’s face wasn’t enough to get him what he wanted. And somehow, all such occurrences only ever involved Shion. Nezumi sighed as he pushed his way out of his cocoon. If His Majesty wanted him dressed and presentable this early in the morning, well, at least he’d get some cake out of it.
Dawn was just breaking as they strolled hand in hand down the empty streets, sipping peppermint cocoa while Shion gave Nezumi the full tour of the market, and regaling him with the torrid tales of merchant rivalries and love affairs that had plagued his daily life for the last month.
Nezumi pretended like he wasn’t interested, but the way his eyes lit up when Shion mentioned that the blacksmith’s wife had been found with the councilman’s daughter told Shion that his partner was just as invested in the gossip as the rest of Shion’s coworkers. And that gleam when he revealed that said blacksmith had used one of the decorative swords he made (dull and useless of course, since the blacksmith was only a fancy title for the marketplace) to chase his wife out of his stall made Shion feel warm inside. Normally it was Nezumi who would bring home the work gossip from the theater, and being able to entertain Nezumi was often a difficult task.
The first stop on Shion’s self-titled Shion and Nezumi’s Grand Christmas Adventure was the ice skating rink that had been set up in the middle of the market. There was no one on the ice as planned.The market wouldn’t be open to even the vendors for another hour, which was the main reason that Shion had woken Nezumi up before dawn.
Neither man had skated before, so when Shion pulled out keys to unlock the rental counter, there was a brief flash of uncertainty. But two pairs of skates later, they were gliding across the ice like they’d been born to it. Or rather, Nezumi was gliding across the ice while Shion grabbed onto the side of the rink for dear life.
Cheeks pink with cold and exertion, Nezumi slid to a stop beside the struggling Shion, who was pouting at the other man’s effortless grace. “It’s not fair. You should be just as terrible at this as I am.”
Holding out a gloveless hand, Nezumi waited for Shion to reach out before speaking. “Pretend like we’re dancing. Look only at me and focus on nothing else. I won’t let you fall. Unless you step on my toes - it would hurt significantly more if you were to do so with the blades on these, and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”
Shion laughed and took Nezumi’s hand. “I know you’d never leave me behind. You’ll always come back. Even if I step on your feet whenever we dance.”
With Nezumi leading, Shion finally got his feet under him and was able to skate next to him. But even once he found his balance, Shion refused to let go of Nezumi’s hand. As the sun’s rays fully illuminated the market, they mutually slowed to a stop.
From his pocket, Shion pulled a small square box with a small red ribbon and a bow on top. “I made this for you. Well, not all of it. Obviously I couldn’t make such an intricate piece of metalwork. At least not without studying the craft for several years. But I assembled it, which feels like it should count. I know it’s not anything as artistic or fancy as other gifts you might be used to receiving as Eve, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by when you’re performing. Not that I think you would forget or anything. Of course not. You have a skill for memorization so I don’t really–“
“Shion, shut up.”
Nezumi gently took the package from Shion and untied the ribbon as gently as he could without letting go of Shion’s hand (which mostly involved his teeth and a very talented tongue). Inside the box was a small locket on a chain, with the words Always on your side engraved under a photo of the two of them covered in flour from one of their disastrous attempts at a cherry cake for their anniversary (Karan banned them from her kitchen after that, even though Shion swears that the flour had been under too much pressure and that it was clearly the manufacturing company’s fault that their machines made flour that would explode).
“Thank you.” Nezumi leaned in and pressed his forehead to Shion’s. “And Merry Christmas.”
Shion’s face broke out into a smile that rivaled the sun reflecting off the ice. “Merry Christmas, Nezumi.”
Safu’s blood grew cold as she realised her grave mistake.
She should not have been there. She should not… but how could she avoid it? And if not now, this would have happened sooner or later…
She instinctively fought back against her attackers, protesting, trying to shove away the hands that were getting a firm hold of her, with growing desperation. Some deep memory in her activated, back when she used to be a tiny girl, and she and her father fought like this, as a game.
This was no game. Though she was not told, she knew they wanted to take her to die…
The nameless, growing terror that had crawled around the edges of her consciousness for month – no, for years she had known something was not right, she had seen it in Shion’s unsaid words, his looks, some remnants of worry on her grandmother’s face when hearing the news, she had known something was not alright, even though she tried to deny it – how much she had trusted this world, she realised, when, after all, it was all too ready to betray her.
Step by step, she was dragged towards a car and in her mind she already saw what awaited her. A long ride of desperation, and then… and then…?
She could not cognitively grasp how much hope she would have to survive if she fought now. But she had no other choice. When scarcely she could free her limbs from the men’s grasps, she aimed for their week spots – she had long known where they were located on her body. While Shion had been a better expert at human anatomy, Safu was well-learnt as well.
Shion, her mind cried out, aching. Shion, help me… save me…
Her own strength was leaving her and she was only a few steps away from the car. One of the men was finally done with her kicking and moving around, and he lifted her up so that another could grab her legs and hold them together tight. He cursed at her when she managed to kick at his shoulder but it was no use. She was still in their grasp.
But despite her – however feeble – hopes it was not Shion who saved her.
Safu thought she heard a chittering sound – then one of the men, the one who was holding her legs started wriggling as if bitten by a bug, thus loosening his grip on Safu. Her legs fell to the ground with a thump, and her heart jumped – this was her chance.
She wriggled free from the other man’s grasp – the motion left a sharp pain in her ribs where the man tried to hold her – and then she turned around, heart frantically beating, planning to aim for a harsh kick at the other man’s groins, but then she gasped with shock.
The man staggered with a gurgling sound, falling to his knees, drops of blood appearing at his neck, trailing down… someone had cut his throat… so quick, she never even saw a thing…
With white fear numbing her movements, Safu stared as a shadow moved around her, and as she shifted her gaze to the other men, one by one they did the same: with a cut neck, they collapsed on the ground. Then the hooded figure ran to the other side of the car to finish off the driver as well, no doubt.
Should she run? Would this mysterious figure turn after her next? But then, why would they have saved her in the first place? Was this truly “saving” or another abduction? Would something even worse await her now?
Yet her heart pounded with hope. She was free of the initial danger. And so was her grandmother, her next thought followed.
Before she could think any further, an urging, young voice alerted her.
‘No time to waste, get in!’
After half a second, an annoyed ‘tsk’ followed and a hand reached for her to pull her inside, next to the driver seat. She heard herself cry out with shock, then grew red with embarrassment – although her face was already burning, probably.
The engine started before she could form a sentence, and the stranger next to her pushed some buttons frantically, perhaps to disable some surveillance systems built in the car? She could not grasp the process that well since the stranger’s hands were quick, and her mind still in a haze.
It had been murder… this person murdered all those people. While it meant her survival, a red alert still throbbed in her heart. She had not seen a lot of murder. Could it be connected to her later? Will she have problems about this?... Was it right that these thoughts appeared, already thinking of her own self instead of these dead people?
As her saviour started to drive, she glanced to the side. Was this even a man or a woman? She heard their voice but could not decide. It had an unquestionable sharpness to it, yet it was beautiful.
‘Where are we going?’, she asked, surprising herself by not immediately asking about the person’s identity. She gathered they would not tell right away anyhow.
‘Away’, the stranger noted, somewhat grimly, their voice strained by concentration. She could not see their face yet, only a few strands of dark hair creeping out from behind the hood of a sweater. There was an aura of trash and dirt, but also the smell of something pleasant, like a unique perfume. An odd mix.
And then, a tiny shape climbing out of the pocket of the sweater. A hamster?, Safu wondered, opening her eyes wide as she gazed at the black figure that settled itself on her new chauffeur’s shoulder.
Then her mind clicked.
Nezumi.
Her stomach seemed to turn to stone for a moment, breath catching in her throat as she remembered Shion’s face, lost somewhere else, not in this world, melting into the distance, his thoughts far away and seemingly forever out of her reach.
The sharp pain that had been buried deep every waking day of hers has now resurfaced. Taking a shape. The shape of this hooded figure with dark hair, and these mice.
For there were two more of them, a brown one and the white one as well.
‘These are not ordinary mice, are they?’, she noted, for now she remembered the chittering sound that was followed by one of the men crying out loudly, as if bitten by something. This one was the culprit, then.
‘Astute’, the stranger’s voice followed with mock appreciation, commenting no more.
Yes, she thought, his voice was indeed beautiful.
‘Are you Nezumi?’, she asked, surprised at her own voice sounding so calm now. Somehow, she knew she was safe. For Nezumi will surely take him to Shion, will he not? He must know where he is. Shion had certainly… wished to be with him, back then. Now he was lost, and now this mysterious stranger who turned out to be Nezumi saved Safu from being taken. It might mean the two of them are together somewhere.
What did you get into, Shion? Will I see you now? Are you safe?
‘I’m famous, aren’t I?’, the stranger said and tilted his head a bit so that Safu could finally see his profile from under his hood. His pale skin seemed to be perfect, dark locks of hair scattered about his forehead, some almost covering his sight, but that did not seem to bother him. And she needed to look – she could not help but look deep into those eyes of his, fixated on the road. Even in the darkness, they seemed to shine bright, like a unique gemstone. Their shape was also different from the people around here. He seemed very young, but also his featured held something almost ancient, she thought. His lips pressed together in focus.
He was indeed beautiful, she had to admit.
So this was the boy that took Shion’s heart all those years ago. This was the one he had yearned for, oblivious of anyone else, oblivious of even Safu being ready to be there for him whenever needed, to accept him sharing his world with her, his pain, his thoughts, his existence…
‘Come on, I know I am pretty but people should not start a habit of staring at me for minutes. It’s impolite, you know.’
She raised her eyebrows with surprise at the cocky remark. Then she asked:
‘Is Shion with you?’
Did she see it, the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth?
‘You have an awful lot of questions.’
‘Do you know where he is? Is he safe?’, she tried to suppress the worry in her voice.
Nezumi tsked again, letting a half-smirk spread to his face.
‘You are a fool if you think any of us are safe or will be in the near future’, he said, his voice silky, infused with bitterness that cut deep. ‘But he is alive’, he added, and Safu closed her eyes with relief, her fingers reaching for each other in her lap, comforted by her own warmth.
He is alive.
For this moment, that was all that mattered.
And so was she… which she did not believe so certain a few minutes earlier.
She moved her eyes around the road to see if anyone had noticed them and would begin to chase them. Nezumi was driving faster than it was allowed, so fast that Safu’s stomach lurched not once. Was he driving towards…
The West Block?
Is that where they were living?
She would find out soon enough… for now, she had to be grateful for…
….and she realised she had not even thanked Nezumi properly yet.
‘Thank you for saving me.’ A smile appeared on her face, and another one on his – distant, proud, beautiful, the smile of a doll in a play. ‘Did Shion send you?’
Nezumi’s thin lips pressed into a line again.
‘Questions later. First, we need to get you as far from the city as possible.’
***
That alone should answer a few questions already, Nezumi thought, mentally sighing at the girl’s obnoxious interrogation.
His heart pounding, he navigated the car to the nearest slot it would fit next to the building. They should be quick – any dweller of the West Block would freeze with shock, seeing a vehicle such as this stop at their street - or they would try their luck and rob whatever they could, even if it meant they can potentially lose their lives. Most of them did not have much to lose anyway.
But I do, he thought, ordering Safu: ‘Get out of the car. We’re going in.’
She got out almost quickly enough, and he grabbed her hand to pull her faster towards the entrance.
‘Shion’, Safu breathed in a hopeful voice, and Nezumi rolled his eyes as they walked down the stairs.
He is the only thing in her mind. For how long has she been obsessed like this?
It was crazy to look at her like this. Still just a girl, a lost, little human, unaware of the machinations around her, fixated on a friend she loved who never returned her feelings, not in the way she wanted him to.
What would come of this later, he wondered?
Not that it mattered. In the bigger picture, it did not matter what Safu selt or what Shion felt or what Nezumi felt. They had a task to carry out. Feelings were just hindrances to that.
‘Nezumi?’, a hopeful, urgent voice called from below, and Nezumi’s mice chittered back, scattering down on his sweater and pants to the ground, running towards the white-haired boy who stood up from among the bookshelves.
Safu gasped, her hands covering her mouth and then she ran, calling out Shion’s name with ecstasy and putting her arms around him.
‘Shion, your hair… it’s…. different’, she breathed in a high voice, fingers trailing to touch the soft locks. Nezumi’s mind burned with hatred against the antagonism it made rise up in him. He could not be weak like this. It is ridiculous.
Shion said her name as well and hugged her back, holding her tight as the girl’s shoulders shook, no doubt with a fit of crying. Nezumi’s lips twitched with contempt, and… and…
…envy, he could not deny. His gaze rested on their warm embrace longer than it should have been allowed. He let the dark, disgusting, moist poison spread in his mind longer than he should have.
Shaking himself, he raised his voice as if talking to his audience, clapping his hands.
‘Ta ta, off we go, lest someone takes off with our ride out there.’
He started toward the stairs again, tsking twice in the inviting tone that let his mice know they should come and accompany him – and the little things ran down from Shion’s shoulders where they found a temporary home and climbed up to Nezumi’s pockets again.
He looked back over his shoulders to see Safu reluctantly release Shion from her embrace. Her hands remained on his shoulders though.
‘I am so happy to see you well. Are you all right? We were so worried about you… your mom…’
Pain rushed through Shion’s face, and Nezumi had enough of it.
‘Lovebirds… the car is waiting!’, he rolled his eyes at them again, immediately furious with himself.
It did not matter… it did not matter what he thought of his own self either.
He just needed to get the both of them out of here.
Nezumi started driving again, his heart pounding heavily.
Out of the city.
Towards his home.
Although that was not yet what it fully was. Maybe it could be again, once more… maybe, if… if they succeed…
***
‘So… are we going to leave No.6? To where?’, Safu inquired. Shion looked at Nezumi.
‘I think we should tell her’, he said, waiting for permission. Although he could still say what he willed – Nezumi could not stop him –, he wanted Nezumi to agree to it as well.
After all, Safu was going to find out anyway. The sooner they get over the initial shock of information – which was also heard to process for Shion – the sooner they can move on to discuss the operative details of their task.
‘Of course you do’, Nezumi said amiably, with a honeyed smile that – together with the tone of his voice – made Shion both shrink in shame and melt with pleasure. There was a bit of scorn in Nezumi’s voice but not true anger. ‘Go on – be the bard that tells about our tales.’
‘That would be more fitting for you’, Shion noted, with a pleased smile, thinking back to the songs Nezumi sang, how they made every worry drift away and leave nothing but a calming presence in their stead.
‘DIdn’t you just ask if you could tell her?’
‘True, I did.’ Shion smiled, turning toward Safu, surprised to see her also smile at them. He could not decide if he imagined the sadness there in her eyes – was this the same face he had seen when – in another world – he had seen Safu already strapped of her humanity, used, emptied, waiting to be completely drained of life; when she had watched Nezumi next to him with some regret, as well as love?... It did not matter. This was not the time to dwell on this, he told himself, just as Nezumi had told him many times before, when Shion voiced his concerns. ‘Yes, we are going to leave the city. Nezumi has… met a community there that can help us. I am telling you, this will probably surprise and shock you, so be ready. We… the ones you see now, before you… we are not totally the ones you knew. In the forest there is a people who live hidden, far from the eyes of No.6. Nezumi’s people. They know a way of communicating with nature that is beyond the sort of science we have studied. They had a way to… retrace the steps of reality so that what happened need not happen again. We… I guess you could say we come from the future.’
Safu’s eyes widened at him.
‘You could time travel!’
‘You can say so, yes.’
Safu’s eyes lit up with curiosity but she remained silent. Shion continued.
‘We tried… at first, before we travelled back, we tried to save you, and save the city, and in some way we did. But it was not enough. In this earlier version of reality, you… you were taken. You were used as an experiment, and were eventually gone.’
Safu gasped with the obvious shock of realising the tragedy that almost befell her mere hours ago.
‘You were fused with another entity. The city’s leaders gave Them a name – Elyurias – but the forest folk call Them the Forest God, and it’s just as well. No matter the name, we need Their help. But for now, They are not yet listening to us. So… that is why we are going to the Forest People. They have their ways to call to their God.’
‘Shion, you look…’ Safu examined him closely, listening, and then her fingers trailed towards his face. Shion had explained on the way how his hair became white and how the red scar appeared on his body. But now she was looking at something else: the changes on his face.
‘How much time passed after you… after you came back?’
‘Three years’, Shion admitted. He had looked in the mirror scarcely, but lately he had seen how his face had changed through the years. Exhaustion drew wrinkles around his eyes, and the bags underneath them were darkened, as well as his smiles were rarer – at least, until Nezumi had returned. With a sudden self-awareness Shion wondered whether there were any remnants of bite marks on his neck – then he remembered that lately he always buttoned his shirts high up. ‘I have been the chairman of an organisation that was formed after No.6 fell. The Restructural Committee, we called it.’ He waited a few seconds as Safu’s eyes widened again. ‘This… that is, the city being destroyed, might happen again, anyway. In fact, it seems to be the only solution. From what we have extrapolated, it does not seem like an avoidable outcome. But what happens after and how we rebuild – that we can change.’
For one, this time Nezumi will not leave. He has had enough time on his own.
How lucky they are indeed – to have the chance to redo their mistakes, to live more years than anyone received… It has only happened very few times in the course of history, it is said. It is not even confirmed when.
Safu had a lot of questions – and Shion was prepared to answer them. After months of speculation, hundreds of papers written full with memories, theories and historical events as well as scientific leads, he had in mind the answer to most of them.
Shion watched Safu with a fond smile as she breathed in at the sight of the forest for the first time.
He thought back to the time when they had walked through the park and he voiced his discontent about the whole regularity of it. Safu had not seen that as a problem then – but now, her thoughts were reframed about it.
She said, ‘It is indeed very beautiful. Odd, but beautiful.’
‘You haven’t seen the half of it’, Shion mused, and in his vision images of the giant coloumns of trees appeared, towering around the tiny humans on ground like those of some ancient temple.
Indeed it was the most ancient temple he had seen: a temple of life itself.
He breathed in deep.
He had gotten used to the sterile smell of disinfectants and clean surfaces everywhere – that was how he grew up. He had gotten used to the stench of death, decay and rot – he had to face that often in the West Block. This – the fresh, somewhat cold, earthy smell of the forest – was still new to him. Yet it was welcoming – like some old relative that one did not even knew the existence of, but one that welcomed them with open arms. Kindness.
Shion could only hope that when they met the Forest People again – or, for them, for the first time – they would greet them the same way. And that, when they talked with the God again – or for Them, for the first time –, They would heed their requests so.
Shion felt Nezumi’s gaze upon himself, as he watched Safu smile at the great trees, amazed. Shion reached out for Nezumi’s hand, who almost pulled back, sounds of surprise leaving his throat, uncontrolled.
’Wha- what are you-’
But he did not shake him off. First, his fingers hung stiff in Shion’s hold, then they folded around him as Nezumi shrugged. Shion then reached for his other hand for Safu, who looked back at him with almost the same surprise.
’Keep this up only until we reach their village though’, Nezumi muttered under his breath. ’Let alone they think we are a cult of love, or something.’
Safu giggled, and Shion saw Nezumi wrinkle his eyebrows at that, then roll his eyes as they started towards the entrance of the forest – unidentifiable, as there were no treks leading there, so they just walked towards the trees to somewhere cross between them. Nezumi would know the way, he would lead them. And perhaps himself, too, Shion thought, he would find it again, and since then he tried to identify marking points that seemed familiar to him.
Nezumi knew this place in a different way than Shion could orient himself in built environments. He was very good at that, but he did not resonate with the forest the same way Nezumi did.
He walked on with a certain warmth, holding both of their hands in his. Hopeful and happy. After all, he had back in his life two of the people he loved most.
A cult of love, he mused. Would that really be such a bad thing?
Here's your domestic, fluffy nezushi art, along with a personalized playlist and a short piano cover played by me of Meguriai, the OST during Nezumi and Shion's dance scene!
I tried to keep it all lighthearted and wholesome as you requested, so I really hope you like it and can take a nice, nostalgic walk down No.6 memory lane! :+)
<3
