"Shion, are you just gonna sit there all day smudging the pages of the books or actually put them in order?" Nezumi, with a look of great disdain on his face, stood aside one of the large bookshelves, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his coat as Cravat and Hamlet sat atop his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh." Shion started to stand, but all the books that had been in his lap tumbled to the floor in a pile between them.

"Tch. Watch what you're doin', will ya?" Nezumi scolded. "If someone's gonna let you borrow his stuff, you could at least have the courtesy to treat his things with respect."

"It's just that I promised Kalan I'd read from the book I found last week, you know, the one about the orphan who's forced to work for the man who makes coffins and then he has to steal but he meets that nice old man, but then he gets taken away by the thieves again - "

"Yes, yes, I don't need the entire synopsis." Nezumi rolled his eyes, bent over the pile of books, and picked out one with a faded green cover. "Oliver Twist," he said. "Are you sure you wanna read this to those poor, miserable children? Do you think kids who wonder about where their next meal's gonna come from want to read about what it's like to be beaten within an inch of their life if they don't do what the good for nothing adults tell them?"

Shion went red in the face. "B-but it ends happily! He's reunited with his family and his friends, and the people who were mean to him got punished!"

"Yeah, yeah." Nezumi turned up his nose and made a graceful gesture with his hand after darting stealthily behind Shion and wrapping an arm around his chest. It was a young woman's urgent, pleading tone that spoke to him in his ear: "But even if he has been wicked, why," Nezumi pinched Shion's plump cheek, "Think how young he is, think that he may never have known a mother's love, or the comfort of a home; and that ill-usage and blows, or the want of bread," he pressed his hand to Shion's stomach, "may have driven him to herd with men who have forced him to guilt."

"Amazing," Shion said in a soft, sincere voice when he finished.

Nezumi stepped aside and gave a shallow bow as Shion clutched the book to his chest, his eyes full of wonder and awe.

Nezumi tugged at the white fringes of Shion's hair before tucking it behind an ear. "You should be careful as well, young man, that you should not herd with men who will force you into guilt."

"The only one I'm herding with is you," Shion returned playfully. "But I don't think you'd ever force me into anything that would require me to feel guilt."

Nezumi tsked and wagged a finger. "Maybe I should use that dopey looking face of yours to gain people's trust and send you off into the marketplace to pick pockets so that we can put some food on the table."

"But we don't have a table," Shion pointed out.

"Okay, then maybe we can use the handkerchiefs and pocket watches you swipe to buy a proper table, but you better swipe enough to put food on it, as well." Nezumi sniffed haughtily and wrapped his scarf loosely about his neck. "And maybe something that's not stew for once."

"Like what?" Shion asked and glanced down at his left shoulder as Tsukiyo, who had popped out from a gap between two books on a lower shelf, crawled up his sleeve. "We only have the little stove and a pot to cook with."

"You're the elite genius, you figure it out. I've got work." Nezumi turned away from him with his usual dramatic flair, scarf whipping behind him like a pair of long rat tails.

"Should I go get some meat while you're out then? Inukashi paid me today after I washed a dozen of her dogs."

Nezumi glanced over his shoulder, his striking grey eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Lucky you. Well as they say, 'A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age'." He turned around again and opened the door, pausing as he spoke. "But this time try not to let a group of kids trick you into giving them a single crumb. You remember what happened last time. Don't be fooled by their 'please, sir, I want some more' business."

Shion frowned. "I would do the same again. Even if for a night they get to eat a little, I won't feel remorse for it."

Nezumi heaved a great sigh of frustration. "Suit yourself. Make sure Inukashi's mongrel goes with you so you don't get into any more trouble than you ought to."

As he left, the door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame of the single bed they shared.

Shion stared at the door a while, remembering how last time he'd been tricked by a group of children after offering to share some of his bread. They'd pushed him from behind and, consequently, he'd lost hold of the parcel of meat and bread he'd only just purchased. It was the same night he'd run into Rikiga and discovered Safu's coat amongst the ones in the shop. Nezumi, Inukashi, and Rikiga were still working on a plan to infiltrate the correctional facility. Yet, all Shion could do was sit here and organize and tidy up the books.

"Shall we go to the marketplace then?" Shion asked Tsukiyo, smiling dimly. "Your master will be mad if we make stew again, so maybe we can go find him something else?"

Tsukiyo twitched his nose and squeaked his approval, his grape-colored eyes showing Shion his own tired reflection. He sighed and looked one more time at the book's cover. He placed it on the shelf, reflecting over what Nezumi had said earlier and ultimately deciding that, as usual, Nezumi was right. That perhaps he should find something more optimistic for Kalan and her little brother. He went over by the bed where he'd left a copy of The Happy Prince. It was his favorite as well as Kalan's, so it would have to do until he could find a more cheerful selection. Call him stubborn, but there had to be more to literature than Shakespearean tragedies. He picked up Wilde's novel and thumbed through the pages before, restlessly, setting it down again. He gave a heavy sigh as he got into his coat and hooked the fastenings. When he finished, Tsukiyo hopped inside one of the pockets.

He made sure to lock the door as he stepped into the musty hallways and found Inukashi's dog waiting obediently at his feet. The dog did a great job of keeping him out of unnecessary trouble when he walked into town. The dog, its brown hair matted and paws covered in mud, gazed up at him with baleful eyes, appearing unhappy at having had its afternoon nap disturbed.

"Do you mind joining me for a quick trip to the market? Nezumi wants some meat for dinner. I thought we could try some stir fry."

The dog drew itself slowly onto all fours and started off ahead of him. Shion followed, trudging his way up the stairs. It was mid-afternoon. The skies were bleak and the clouds swollen with the tell-tale signs of rain. Shion stuffed his hands in his pockets, shivering all the while. Though having Tsukiyo in his right pocket allowed for at least one hand to stay warm. He should really invest in a pair of gloves.

Winter was upon the West Block. Children huddled together along the streets, dressed only in rags. Their skinny arms reached out to passersby in the hopes that they'd be offered any scraps. Nezumi had told him once that his sympathy for them was half-hearted and that if he was going to give food to one child, he should have enough for them all. Once more, he was acutely aware that he'd be purchasing food in front of these kids. This was life here, however. Every day was a struggle - to put food on the table, to fend off illness, protect what you do have, to be able just to live to another day. Nezumi told him that many died during this time of year.

Think about that when you return to No. 6 and suck on one of those frozen treats and then remember all those human popsicles you saw littering the market streets and alleys, he'd said.

But Shion was still hopeful that there would be a day when the wall between No. 6 and the West Block would fall and these people wouldn't have to suffer unnecessarily. If the people of No. 6 could just see what he'd been forced to see, surely they would feel the same as he did? That a change was needed. It didn't have to be as Nezumi said, that one or the other must be destroyed.

Once at the butcher's, Shion found a slab of meat. A bit brown, but otherwise it looked okay. He also found a half a loaf of bread with a few specks of mould growing on the crust. He haggled as Nezumi had taught him to do and went away happy with his purchase. Some of the children approached him, ready to reach out and ask for a handout, but the dog growled menacingly and, bearing its teeth, frightened them all away.

The walk back to the library storage room was remarkably uneventful. So long as he had the dog at his side, no one attempted to bother him. He felt proud that he'd actually accomplished something Nezumi had asked of him without screwing it up for once. As he started down the steps, it began to drizzle. He hoped Nezumi wouldn't catch a cold on his walk home from the theatre.

Before beginning preparations for supper, Shion fit in a brief shower. As usual, the warm water only lasted 30 seconds. When he could take it no longer, he stepped out, toweled himself dry, and re-dressed. For a little over an hour he read Othelloaloud to Tsukiyo, but right as Othello was about to murder poor Desdemona, he set the story aside to start grilling the slices of meat he'd been marinating in what couldn't have been more than a teaspoon of soy sauce and some seasonings. He had a few vegetables that Kalan's mother had given him to slice and throw in with the meat. He'd become more proficient at cooking. Although Nezumi's compliments solely consisted of "it's edible at least" and "one can't be picky on an empty stomach."

It was after he'd added most the vegetables into the pot that the door flew open and a soaking Nezumi stormed in and slammed the door.

"How many times do I have to tell you to lock the door?" he griped as he threw his scarf across the bed.

"Can you put that somewhere else?" Shion asked as he stirred the meat and vegetables with a wooden spoon. "You're going to get the bed wet."

Nezumi sat on the edge of the creaky mattress and glared. "I'll set it wherever I goddam please. This is my home after all, isn't it?"

"Well, I was just saying - "

"Fine, fine. I'll move it." He casually tossed it on the floor and, dragging a chair near the stove, sat in it backwards. He peeked inside the pot. "What's this?"

"Stir fry," answered Shion, preoccupied with keeping the meat from burning. "How was work?"

"Miserable," Nezumi groused, snatching a carrot. "The crowd was nothing but uncivilized brutes. They interrupted the middle of the third act to catcall at Eve. Can you believe that? You have to applaud their dramatic timing, though, as it was shortly after Ophelia's line: 'Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind'."

Cravat and Hamlet started running around Shion's feet in circles as their way of greeting. "Hello Cravat, Hamlet. You missed me reading Othello to Tsukiyo." The two mice chattered up at him as if disappointed. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll read to you two later before bed."

"You spoil 'em, y'know that?" Nezumi sulked and rested his chin on the back of the chair. He pulled out the knot in his hair and let it fall on either side of his face. "What?" he snapped when he caught Shion staring at him.

"I was just wondering to myself whether I like your hair better up or down. Either way, it's complimentary to your features, but you're very beautiful with it down, I must say."

Nezumi shook his head in disgust. "I honestly have no idea how you can say that sorta stuff without getting embarrassed. I mean, really."

"Why?" he asked simply. "If even members of the audience will interrupt a play to tell you how beautiful you are, why should I feel embarrassed about it when I'm alone with you and it doesn't bother anyone?"

"It doesn't bother anyone?" Nezumi scoffed. "I'm telling you it bothers me."

"But you always compliment the color of my hair or the way the red scar wraps around my - "

Nezumi held up his hand to silence him. "Enough. Are we eating soon? I'm starving! How dare you make a star actor of my caliber wait for his supper? I demand a feast to celebrate!"

"But what are we celebrating, Nezumi?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Nezumi crowed. "The fact that you managed to return from the West Block without being mugged, solicited, or killed. Oh, how my little boy is growing up!"

Shion's cheeks flushed a tomato shade of red. "Shut up."

"Such a tongue he has, too, if we had soap to spare, I would use it to wash out that vulgar mouth of yours!"

"Could you stop eating the carrots?"

"Someone's testy." Nezumi laughed at him. "Not happy to have my company?"

"I'm always happy to have your company. I'd be perfectly content if you could stay here all day and not have to go to work."

"Huh? Did you fall and hit your head when you went out today? If I didn't go to work, we wouldn't have food, and you, my little leech, do wonders to drain my resources. After all, I handed over my entire savings to Inukashi so that - "

When Nezumi suddenly stopped talking, Shion glanced at the other boy's face.

"So that what?" he asked. "Nezumi? Why did you give Inukashi so much money?"

Nezumi averted his gaze and scratched Tsukiyo underneath the chin. "Je te dis pas. C'est pas tes oignons."

"I don't know what that means."

"Of course not." Nezumi sneered. "It's French."

Shion sighed. "It's ready. I think. Does it have to do with the correctional facility? With Safu?" He started to spoon portions of the stir fry onto their plates and added a slice of bread for each of them. He dropped a few crumbs for the mice to nibble on, as well.

"It's being taken care of. Can we not discuss this? I don't want to lose my appetite. If that's even possible." Greedily, he took his plate and began to eat. "Not bad."

Shion smiled at the compliment.

Nezumi noticed. "Don't get too cocky. You used more meat than you should've."

"Well, like you said. We had a reason to celebrate."

Nezumi tilted his head to the side and spoke in his typical condescending manner. "Ah, that I did. Very well. After all, you paid for it, and you're free to waste your earnings as you see fit. As expected of one born and bred within the walls of No. 6."

Shion ate his portion quietly. He'd thought Nezumi would be more pleased that he'd gone to and from town without any problems, and that he'd been able to cook a decent dinner without burning it.

"Oi, Shion. Are you... pouting?"

Shion nibbled at his meat. "Of course not. I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

"Oh ho! What's this?"

"I'm simply choosing to rebel against your tyranny," Shion said with a tiny smirk.

"Me? A tyrant?" Nezumi's laughter was deep as he leaned back and tied his hair into a knot.

The fringe scattered in front of his eyes and Shion was left to wonder how someone who so often got into fights could do it with as much skill and finesse as Nezumi did, even though his longer hair might get in the way.

"Earth to Shion. You're like a space cadet tonight. What were you thinking about?"

"Your hair again," he answered honestly and smiled. He reached over to touch it. "May I touch it?"

"Ask before you act, young man." Nezumi smirked.

"So soft. I love your hair. It's like silk."

"Ah, how Byron would weep over such clichés! Do leave the metaphor and similes to the real poets!"

"Byron?" Shion repeated the name. "Will you recite some of his poetry?"

"If it pleases you, your majesty, I shall be happy to grant your request." Nezumi stood and clasped his hands to Shion's face, bringing it close to his own. "When we two parted in silence and tears, half broken-hearted to sever the years. Pale grew thy cheek and cold," a thumb brushed in an arc over his cheekbone, "Colder thy kiss; truly that hour foretold, sorrow to this."

Shion became lost in the depth of Nezumi's beautiful eyes as the other boy pressed their mouths together in a chaste kiss. Beautiful. Everything about Nezumi was beautiful.

"And what kind of kiss was that?" asked Shion as he held his fingers to his lips.

Nezumi laughed at his dazed expression, the sound startling the mice and causing them to look curiously between the two of them. "Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. Without a promise or oath attached to it."

"Ah."

"If you're dissatisfied with that answer consider it a kiss of reward. Another day that you managed not to get yourself killed."

"Maybe one day I won't have to depend so much upon you, Nezumi. Maybe you'll be the one dependent on me."

"In your dreams, Shion," Nezumi said as he reached across to tug on Shion's ear. "That'll never happen. Now finish your dinner so that you can read to the mice like you promised them."

"Won't you be going to sleep?"

"Huh, who me? Nah. I want to hear you read, too. What part did you get up to?"

Shion continued eating as he was bid. "Right before Desdemona gets smothered."

"Ah yes, and would you be like Othello and let Iago go despite his murderous crimes?"

"Not if his crimes resulted in you being hurt in any way I wouldn't."

"Hm." Nezumi collected his empty plate and brought it to the sink, saying nothing more. When Shion finished his, Nezumi took that plate, as well, and washed it.

"I can do that," Shion argued. "You worked tonight."

"And you worked this morning."

Shion tried to tidy up around the stove at least and pushed aside a few piles of books to clear up some space. A little while later, after Nezumi returned from the shower, they both climbed into bed. All three mice sat atop the pillow, their whiskers twitching as they settled in next to Shion's shoulder. There was the glow of a few candles that had been set on a crate beside the bed. Nezumi had already crawled under the covers and was facing the wall, but Shion could tell he was awake. He continued from where he'd left off and read until he reached the part with Othello at Desdemona's bedside, about to kill her over an erroneous charge of adultery. He kisses her on the face and lips, and says to her:

Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after. One more, and this the last:
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.

"A kiss of death," Nezumi interrupted him.

"A kiss of death," Shion agreed.

"That's exactly how I'd do it."

"If you thought I was cheating on you?" Shion smiled at the back of Nezumi's head.

"If you betrayed me, I suppose I would. If you were my enemy and I had no choice but to kill you."

"I see," said Shion, nodding. He closed the book with a clap and set it on the floor. "That's the first time I thought maybe death wouldn't be such a bad thing after all."

"Hm?" Nezumi murmured.

"Nothing." Shion blew out the candles and curled into a ball underneath the covers. "It was nothing at all."