I've been going back through the three versions of No. 6 for side-by-side comparison, and one scene near the beginning really stands out because it's nearly exactly the same in every version.
It's after Nezumi cuts the nasty thing out of Shion's neck, forces Shion to stay conscious/alive throughout the ordeal, and when it's over he goes outside to just look out at the city walls. And he vows to cut out the city's infection the same way he cut out Shion's.
Nezumi's intent is to expose No. 6's corruption and cruelty. The part about laying it out in the open is especially telling. And then, of course, he wants to destroy the whole place. But that's not what removing an infection does.
To remove an infection would be to heal that person, to save them. Right now there isn't a single thought in Nezumi's mind toward helping the city, but he will eventually be instrumental in its salvation. He will expose the corruption of the leaders, but he will also plead on behalf of the people.
Even though he thinks he's being sassy and clever with his wording, it's actually a fantastic bit of foreshadowing that I didn't catch until the nth read.
Literally sobbing. A judge, a US judge defended us. A judge brought up intersex people, uaing the term intersex, to *defend* us by not allowing our erasure. I'm having a lot of feelings right now
Reading @nezumivc103221 's headcanon post gave me the most random inspiration at 5am on a Sunday. It has been a really long time since I have dared to post any kind of writing on social media (RP or otherwise) so I hope you all enjoy a very small musing.
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Getting ready for work in the morning was interesting, to say the very least. Shion was required to be at work exactly on time; not a minute too soon and not a minute late, due to his boss being very specific about the time they clocked in. It was a quirk that he had grown used to and even fond of, despite his coworkers' various complaints and objections. They believed that their boss was stingy and didn't want to pay them for extra work.
Yet to the boss' credit, they were paid well. Far more than any similar position in the area and while that was enough to raise eyebrows, Shion learned to simply do his work while he was there, ask no questions, and then return home. Should there have been anything criminal going on, he was happy to overlook it. He was close to someone who had far more than enough of that on their plate already.
But the problem with time was that it was relative. And in Nezumi's house, where each clock was different depending on the location, season, and weather— that had presented a few problems. Especially in terms of being on time.
If cell phones had not existed, Shion would have no hope of ever getting to work on time. The clock on the stove was always off, leaving the kitchen completely dark in the morning as he stumbled in to make his morning coffee, having to pull the shades open for some small semblance of light. Occasionally in his half-asleep musings he considered what might have gone wrong with the clock and the various possibilities of fixing it before he realized that it being off was completely intentional and not an innocent flaw. The bubbling of the kettle often snapped him out of his thoughts. He kept the whistle off to avoid any additional noise that wasn't already caused by his attempts to get ready.
His alarm already woke the man beside him once. He had learned to be as quiet as possible to avoid waking him again.
Nezumi's sleep schedule was not as regimented as his own and when Shion awoke in the morning, it was never guaranteed that Nezumi had any specific amount of sleep, if he was even in bed at all.
Some mornings he woke up alone.
It was just a fact that he had grown used to living here. One he had learned not to let bother him.
The clock on the nightstand beside the bed had run out of batteries a while ago, according to Nezumi. And despite how many times Shion had brought home batteries to fix it, they always somehow went missing.
The clock above the piano in the living room was one of the few that worked. But it was always an hour off. At the very least, that one offered Shion some semblance of time in a home that seemed to lack any of it. But once the weather started to warm and the nights grew longer, somehow it seemed to right itself. As if it were waiting for the first display of fireflies blinking in the evening to suddenly come alive again.
Nezumi's internal clock was impeccable. Likely a result of everything he had gone through, his work and the lack of working clocks in his own home. He used his cell phone just as Shion did, but despite how good Shion had gotten at determining time, Nezumi was always better.
