When the Cold of Winter Comes
From signpainter1 (AO3) for RaccoonOfMango (twt). Happy holidays! (CW: angst, hospitalisation, coma, car accident)
*
Nezumi couldn’t believe this was happening.
It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting. Nezumi could see a slither of it through the white curtains of the hospital room. He sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to the hospital bed where Sion was lying. In less than twelve hours his life had become a nightmare. He couldn’t believe that it was only that morning that he woke up next to a warm and sleepy Sion and kissed him good morning.
The Sion from his memory was so different from the one that lay in front of him. Instead of his stupid bunny PJs, which Nezumi both hated and loved, he wore a hospital gown. Instead of his cheeks flushed with sleep, they were pale as his hair. Bandages were wrapped around his arms, legs, and neck. The parts of him that weren’t bandaged were covered in scratches, cuts, and bruises.
This couldn’t be his Sion.
“He still has a chance to pull through. The first operation was a success which is a good sign.” A voice said from the doorway.
Nezumi reluctantly pulled his eyes from Sion’s still form. The doctor was standing in the doorway a clipboard in hand. Nezumi didn’t like him much; then again Nezumi didn’t like doctors in general. This doctor had the misfortune of bearing bad news about Sion. No matter how nice he might be, Nezumi would never like him.
“What about the second operation?” Nezumi’s voice was barely over a croak.
The doctor paused a little too long for Nezumi’s liking. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. The longer they sat in silence the more Nezumi’s nerves frayed. He hated this about the new No. 6. Why couldn’t people just say bad news right out instead of softening the truth?
“This next operation will be…..tricky. He might pull through, but I would still prepare myself for the worst-case scenario. Even if he does survive there might be some long-lasting effects.”
Nezumi felt like he couldn’t breathe. The doctor's words weren't very reassuring for Sion's survival. Death seemed so foreign in their new life. Now that they weren’t living in the West District or breaking into the Corrective Facility, Nezumi thought they would have a long time together.
But when did Nezumi ever get what he wanted? The world seemed to like to make him suffer. After his family died he closed his heart. When Sion arrived, he reluctantly opened it. It was too late to close off the world again. In the last two years, Nezumi had become complacent, enjoying life in a way he never could before. A part of Sion was in his heart and now he had to live with the consequences.
“Do you know when his mother will arrive?” the doctor asked.
Nezumi forced himself to breathe. Freezing up wouldn't help. Until Karen arrived he needed to take care of things with the doctor. Nezumi opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Why was this so hard? Old him would have snapped back into action. He could remember a time when he berated Sion for freezing up. It was amazing how a few years changed everything.
“Take your time.” The doctor said gently.
His pity rubbed Nezumi the wrong way. He didn’t need softness, he needed someone to slap and tell him to quit acting like a frightened child. It was his irritation more than anything else that got him to start speaking again.
“She’s on her way. She should be here later tonight.” Nezumi gritted out. Karen was in No. 5 on vacation.
“Alright then.” The doctor nodded. “Does he have any other family?”
“No, just his mother.”
“And what’s his relationship with you?” The doctor prodded.
“I’m his boyfriend.”
“I see.” The doctor scribbled something on the clipboard. “Thank you,” He glanced down at the paper, “Nezumi. I’m going to check on the preparation. If you need anything please press the button to call the nurse.” He looked back at Nezumi who nodded mutely. “Very well then.” He paused again before leaving. “He might survive. Just keep hoping.”
Nezumi rested his head against the wall. Hope was something Sion was very good at and Nezumi struggled with. Revenge and anger were easier. A part of him wanted to hunt down the person who hurt Sion and make them pay. Instead, he just sat there gazing dully at his boyfriend. Sion wasn’t dead yet and he needed him here, even though this was all Nezumi’s fault
He wished he was a better person for Sion. He wished he could let go of his stubbornness and pride. He wished they never had that stupid argument. He wished he didn’t leave Sion behind. Why couldn’t he just admit he was wrong?
“Nezumi?”
Nezumi didn’t move, mind still full of mixed-up thoughts. He knew Inukashi was watching him from the doorway. He could hear her panting slightly.
“Karen told me what happened. Why didn’t you call me?” Inukashi demanded.
Nezumi didn’t answer. It hadn’t crossed his mind to call her. The only reason he got a call from the hospital at all was that he was Sion’s emergency contact. Once he arrived, he only just remembered to call Karen because the nurse asked him about Sion’s family.
“Karen is flying back now. She should be here in a couple of hours.” Inukashi continued. “I’m going to meet her at the airport. Were you in the middle of a performance?” That got Nezumi’s attention.
“What?” He asked finally looking at her. Inukashi was notorious for forgetting when Nezumi’s performances were. Sion was always trying to invite her, and she always had ‘something else’ planned.
“You’re wearing a dress.” She said gesturing at him.
Nezumi glanced down at himself. He forgot he was still dressed in Juliet’s silky gown. At least he no longer wore the wig. It had been ten minutes before the start of the play when he got the call.
“Do you need a change of clothes?”
“I don’t care,” Nezumi said returning his gaze to Sion.
“Suit yourself.” Inukashi huffed, sitting down next to him. “So, mind telling me what happened?”
“Didn’t Karen already tell you?” he asked irritatedly.
“She just said Sion was in an accident.”
Nezumi debated not answering but he knew that Inukashi wouldn’t let it go. It was better to just answer and get this conversation over so he could be left alone again.
“Sion was crossing the street, and someone hit him.” His chest tightened at the thought and he forced his voice to stay even. “They just kept on driving.” Nezumi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Someone else saw what happened and called the police.”
“Don’t you and Sion usually drive together to your performances?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you today?”
Nezumi fell silent again. He wasn’t going to have this conversation with Inukashi. He couldn’t relive the hours before the accident. The only one he needed to talk to about what happened was Sion.
“Nezumi,” Inukashi pressed, “why wasn’t he traveling with you? What happened?”
“Does that matter?” Nezumi snapped with more emotion than he wanted to show. He pulled back forcing his voice to neutral. “You asked what happened to Sion and I told you.”
Inukashi grunted in annoyance but fortunately stopped asking questions. They sat in silence for a while. Finally, a nurse came by and knocked on the side of the doorway.
“We’re ready.” She said softly. “Could you please wait in the waiting room?”
“Sure,” Inukashi said standing up. Nezumi nodded mutely and took Sion’s hand. It felt cold and limp against his warm palm. He could barely feel a pulse.
“Stay with us,” Nezumi whispered leaning down close to Sion’s ear. “Please Sion. We need you…. I need you.”
For a second he thought he felt Sion squeeze back, but the moment passed. Sion’s hand was as limp as ever.
He had been stupid, so incredibly stupid.
It was early afternoon, two hours before his first performance of Romeo and Juliet. The play had been in production for quite a while. Naturally, Nezumi landed the part of Juliet. With only a couple of hours before the play started, Sion was helping him practice. Nezumi already knew his lines by heart, but it had become a routine for them whenever he landed a new role.
They sat on the couch together going over scenes at random. Sion, with his photographic memory, already memorized everyone’s lines. He could recite them by heart, even though he spoke with all the characteristics of a rusty saw. It was because he always tried hard to add emotion to his voice, that the lines came out overblown and dramatic. Nezumi, although he teased Sion ruthlessly about his performance, loved it. It was part of what made Sion, Sion
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand. To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss” Sion said dramatically waving his hands.
“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” Nezumi responded, “Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”
Nezumi took one of Sion’s hands and kissed it. Sion’s cheeks turned red as he hid his face in the pillow.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to do.” He said, his voice muffled.
“No,” Nezumi smirked, “but I’m not performing in front of an adoring audience. Just my boyfriend.” Sion snorted and peeked his head out from behind the pillow to give Nezumi a quick kiss.
“I can’t wait to see you on the stage tonight. You’re going to be amazing.”
“I’m still wondering whose idea was it to perform Romeo and Juliet this close to Christmas,” Nezumi said. “Nothing says ‘Christmas joy’ then two teens killing themselves.”
“It’s a terrible choice.” Sion agreed with a laugh. “But at least the theater is going to be packed with your ‘adoring fans’.”
“So will any restaurant we go to after to celebrate.” Nezumi pointed out. “Which we still haven’t chosen yet.”
“Let’s go to Maples.”
“Not that place again.” Nezumi rolled his eyes. “There are so many better places to go than Maples.”
“What’s wrong with Maples?” Sion asked indignantly. “It’s good.”
“If you’re twelve.” Nezumi pulled away and sat up stretching. “Let’s go to The Silver Spoon or Avarious. Those places are nicer and not chock full of families.”
“What’s wrong with families?” Sion asked. “We want to have one someday. Also, I like Maples. It’s lively, everyone is nice, and it has good food. I’m tired of places full of snobs and dress codes.”
“This is to celebrate my performance right?” Nezumi asked raising an eyebrow. “So I should be able to choose where we go.”
“But Nezumi, you always choose where we go.” Sion crossed his arms, his expression turning serious. “You always ask where we should go but then shoot down my suggestions.”
Nezumi paused. Now that he thought about it, he had done that before. From the look on Sion’s face, he was upset about it. The smart thing to do would be to compromise. He could tell Sion he could choose a place next time when they decided to go out. That however would feel like losing. Nezumi’s pride got the better of him.
“It’s not my fault you have no taste.” He heard himself say. Sion’s face fell and Nezumi knew a fight was starting.
“Just because I don’t like the same places you do doesn’t mean I have no taste,” Sion said, voice rising in frustration. A small part of Nezumi knew he should apologize, but he was never good at doing that. Instead, he dug in his heels allowing instincts to kick in. A mocking smile crossed his lips, and he leaned forward, hand resting on his chin.
“Are you really upset that I said you have no taste? I said worse things to you when we were living in the West District.”
Sion stared at him for a long moment. Nezumi thought he was going to yell but instead, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I hate when you get this way.” He said standing up. “You’re impossible to talk to.” He spun around to glare at Nezumi. “Come talk to me when you’re feeling less of a jerk.
With one final angry look Sion stomped off. A few seconds later Nezumi heard their bedroom door slam shut. Nezumi sat alone in their living room feeling a mixture of regret and annoyance. This was just so stupid. Why did Sion even care? Why did he have to choose a performance night to make a stance? Couldn’t he choose another night?
And why couldn’t Nezumi just let it go? Why was part of him still stuck in the West District? It wasn’t like back then. If he gave in nothing bad would happen. Sion wouldn’t take advantage of him, he knew that.
“Damn it,” Nezumi muttered under his breath.
He should go and talk to Sion. Nezumi stood up and made it to the bedroom door before changing his mind. He had a performance soon and that wouldn’t give them enough time to talk, besides their emotions were still running high. The last thing he wanted to do was to get into another argument.
Instead, he got ready for his performance and left the house. Sion probably didn’t want to drive up with him. Once he felt better he would meet Nezumi at the playhouse and Nezumi would apologize. They would go to Maples then head home and have a long conversation.
It was the wrong choice.
Nezumi rested his head in his hands. The waiting room was just as bad as the hospital room. Both were too white and made him feel like he was locked up at the Correction Facility. The thoughts in his head bounced around as if they really were in a cell. He kept replaying the memories of their last interaction over and over again.
Looking back, it was obvious Sion would still want to go with him even though he was angry. They should have just had that conversation at the house. Sion didn’t disappear and lock everyone out when he was angry, no that was Nezumi. Sion stressed the importance of conversation and talking through problems.
Nezumi wondered how Sion felt when he realized he was left alone in the house. Did he feel abandoned? Angry? Upset? Did he leave the house with his mind on their argument? Was that why he didn’t see the car coming?
It was horrible to think Sion’s last thoughts could have been on their stupid argument. His last feelings could be betrayal, anger, or hurt toward Nezumi. If only Nezumi was a better boyfriend. If only he just listened. If only he let down his walls. If only he spoke with Sion before. It was all his fault. All his fault. All his fault. All his fault. All his fault. All his fault.
“Nezumi.”
A voice broke through Nezumi’s spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see that Inukashi had returned with Karen. A lump grew in Nezumi’s throat. He never truly appreciated how much she looked like Sion. Her face was shaped exactly like his, her eyes as wide. Even her body language reminded him too much of Sion.
Nezumi looked away not able to deal with their similarities anymore. He heard Karen drop her bags and rush forward. The next thing he knew she had enveloped him in a hug. He could feel her body tremble against his as her grief overcame her.
“He’ll be ok, we just need to believe he’ll be ok.” She said in a low shaky voice.
Nezumi didn’t respond. Her words sounded more like a plea than actual reassurance. He wondered if this was how she felt when Sion was hiding with Nezumi in the West District. It was a while before she pulled away and sat down without another word.
They all sat there, the silence pressing in on all sides. Each of them was in their own thoughts about Sion. At one point it became too much for Inukashi and she started pacing restlessly. Then a nurse came by a little later to check on them. Other than that, time didn’t seem to exist in the waiting room. A couple of minutes could have passed or an eternity.
Eventually, their waiting came to an end. The doctor entered and all three of them turned toward him. Karen rose to her feet, anxiety present in every line of her face. Nezumi balled his fist trying to read the doctor's expression. From what he gaged by his body language Sion wasn’t dead, but there was still bad news.
“Are you Karen?” The doctor asked.
“Yes,” she breathed shakily.
“I’m Doctor Shimibom. I’m Sion’s doctor.” He took a deep breath. “The good news is that Sion is stable. He is currently being returned to his room.”
Karen let out a breath that sounded like a sob and cover her mouth. Nezumi and Inukashi didn’t even crack a smile. Like him, Inukashi knew there was more to come.
“What’s the bad news?” Nezumi asked.
The doctor shot him an irritated look. Clearly, he was planning on letting Karen have a moment of relief before springing the bad news on her. Nezumi didn’t know why he thought that was better. Why bring up her hopes if he was just going to dash them?
“During the operation, we lost him for a moment. We don’t know if he’s brain-dead.” He paused. “He might not wake up.”
“So, he’s in a coma,” Nezumi said dully. Karren slowly dropped back to the seat.
“Unfortunately, yes.” The doctor sighed. “At this point, all we can do is hope he will wake.”
Over the next couple of weeks, Nezumi stayed by Sion’s side, refusing to leave. He barely ate or slept. Karen still had to run the bakery, but she came by any moment she could spare. Inukashi showed up daily to check on Sion and harass Nezumi into eating and sleeping. Sometimes Sion’s friends from work would appear. They would stay for a little while, offer words of comfort, and leave gifts. It didn’t matter to Nezumi if someone was there or if he was alone. He was only dimly aware of anyone else in the room.
Most of the time Nezumi would just sit there in silence but when it became too much he would start talking to Sion. Sometimes he would sing to him until his throat was sore. Sometimes he would recite poetry and stories, ones that he knew Sion would love. Sometimes he told him secrets from his childhood and early days on the streets. When even coherent ideas became too much for him, he reverted to begging, pleading, apologizing, bargaining, and making promises.
“I love you.”
“Please wake.”
“I’ll find the person who did this and make them pay.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll do anything you want just please wake up.”
“We can go to as many cheesy restaurants as you want. I’ll never complain again.”
“I love you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
When Nezumi’s body forced him into unconsciousness, his dreams were fragmented and broken. Most had to do with Sion. In some of them, he and Sion were living their days together, either in the West District or in their house after No.6 was rebuilt. In others Sion was dead and Nezumi found himself alone in the world. Both types of dreams left him in despair when he woke.
“We need to face the truth.” The doctor said one day. “It has been almost a month.”
Nezumi, who was half listening to the conversation between the doctor and Karen, lifted his head and stared at the closed door. The doctor had asked to have a word with Karen alone, which was never a good sign.
“He might still wake,” Karen said. “Let’s give him more time.”
“If that’s what you want.” The doctor said gently “Still, you need to prepare yourself for the worse.”
Karen responded but her voice was muffled. Nezumi could hear her and the doctor’s voices move away as they walked farther from the door. He let his head drop back down. Had it really been a month? It didn’t feel like any time at all. He felt so helpless sitting there, suffocated by the small hospital room. Suddenly he needed to do something. Opening his mouth, he began to sing softly.
When the cold of Winter comes
Starless nights will cover day
Nezumi knew that Sion would probably never wake. He knew that from the beginning yet, a foolish part of him still hoped to see him again. Now his heart felt heavy and empty. The light was going out. Nezumi didn’t know what to do anymore.
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain
What would become of him once Sion died? Would he go back to wandering the wilderness? Would he build a library around him and huddle there, cold, bitter, and empty? He’d done it before when he lost his family.
But in dreams
I can hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again
Thinking back, he couldn’t remember how he managed to live alone. Sion’s presence filled so much of him that he wasn’t sure if he could go back. When he had left No.6 after the wall fell, he wandered for about a year. During his travels, he realized one thing. He couldn’t leave Sion. Now Sion was going to leave him, and it was all his fault.
When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Nezumi never deserved Sion. Ever since he came into his life, Sion fought against Nezumi’s closed-mindedness. He was emotional and passionate but also kind. Nezumi always pushed against that kindness even without knowing it. He wanted so badly to have another chance to do it right.
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again
“Such a sad song.”
A voice, so faint Nezumi thought he imagined it, spoke. He opened his eyes and met a pair of deep red ones. It took a few seconds for his mind to register what he saw.
“Sion.” Nezumi gasped wiping at his face.
“I’m here,” Sion whispered with a weak smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“No, I’m sorry. It was stupid. I should have just talked with you.” Nezumi ran a hand through his hair. “I messed up.”
“It’s ok.” Sion gave a small cough. “It was a dumb argument. I could have just asked you when it wasn’t your big opening night. There was no reason to choose that moment to have the conversation.”
“It’s not your fault,” Nezumi said taking his hand. "I was the one who chose not to have that conversation. I was the one who decided to leave without you." He leaned his head against Sion's "It's all my fault."
“Still, if I wasn’t so distracted I would have seen the car coming.”
“Don’t feel bad because you got hit.” Nezumi's face darkened. “I’ll find who did it and make them pay.”
“Yeah,” Sion said, “I heard you say that.”
“You…. heard?”
“I don’t remember much after the accident but….at some point, I started hearing everyone’s voices. They were so far away. “Sion shuttered. “I wanted to go to you but couldn’t move or respond. I tried everything; fought every second just to get to you. It was terrifying. I thought the last thing I would hear was mom’s tears and your hopeless voice.”
Nezumi squeezed Sion’s hand gently and felt him squeeze back. They sat there in silence just staring at each other. Nezumi drank in the sight of him. It felt like years since he saw his face and heard his voice.
“How long was I out?” Sion finally asked.
“A month.”
“I see,” Sion said sadly. “And you were here with me the whole time. You missed all your performances. We missed Christmas and New Year.” Sion looked so dejected that Nezumi had to lean forward and kiss him gently.
“We always have next year. We have time now.” Nezumi pulled Sion closer, mindful of the wires and tubes he was hooked up to. “I promise to do better. I’ll try harder.” He kissed the top of Sion’s head.
“I’ll try harder too,” Sion said leaning against Nezumi’s arms. “I'll let you know what’s bothering me before it becomes too big.”
“I thought I would never see you again.”
“I know,” Sion said gently, “but I'm here now.” He turned his gaze toward the window. “It’s snowing.” Nezumi followed where he was looking.
“So it is.” He hadn’t noticed before. From the looks of it, it had been snowing a lot. The ground was covered with a thick white blanket of snow and the branches of a nearby tree had long icicles hanging from them.
“Beautiful.” Sion breathed.
Nezumi made a sound of agreement, as they lapsed back into comfortable silence watching the snowfall. It was strange in a way, Nezumi thought that if Sion woke he would be so happy or excited, or something. Instead, he curled his head over Sion’s and let silent tears fall. He felt exhausted after the last month of waiting.
He knew he should go get Karen and let her know, but he couldn’t move. She would return soon and find her son awake. Right now, however, he wanted to be selfish and have Sion to himself a little longer.
Christmas might be a month over, but this was still the only gift Nezumi truly wanted.
