The downpour had ceased in the middle of the night, droplets of rain slowly morphing into a comfortable silence as heavy eyes remained shut, focused on suppressing all of the horrible visions of the last few days. He did not have nightmares, not on this night at least. Perhaps it was because he was able to get the rest he so desperately needed, his body finally relaxing from the strain of constant running, and fighting, and bleeding. Wounds finally had a chance to heal, at least those on his exterior.
He stirred, not quite fully conscious as the dawn threatened to break. His grey eyes opened slowly, cautiously scanning his surroundings. Where was he, again? Was he still in No. 6? He closed his eyes as he pulled up a hand to rub at his face, his shoulder stinging as it lifted. The events that took place a few hours ago were hazy, sleep still threatening to claim those tired stormy eyes.
It was only after a few moments that he was pulled out of his thoughts, realizing his other hand was holding onto something. It was warm, whatever it was. Eyes widened as he looked over at the brown haired boy, sleeping soundly beside him. He looked down at the joined hands, fingers somehow weaving in between one another's as the hours had progressed. A smile, one genuine and eternally grateful, tugged at Nezumi's lips as he stared at the other. It had been some sort of miracle in Nezumi's eyes, finding the other right as he was about to let his body shut down, to give up. The way he had been screaming at the top of his lungs, beckoning Nezumi to him like the warmth of a light at the end of a cold dark tunnel. This boy, this innocent, naive boy was Nezumi's salvation.
He knew that he would have to leave soon; through the window, the night sky was quickly losing its battle with the warm rays of the sun. Dawn was coming, about to break over the horizon. Nezumi watched as yellow hues melted into the sky like muddled paint, and in that peaceful moment, he found nothing to be more beautiful.
He felt Shion's hand squeeze his, and his eyes darted back over to him. What should he do? He knew that his presence would cause a lot of pain for Shion's family, and the fact that such a kind gesture would only get this boy in trouble left him feeling even more bitter towards No. 6. He gritted his teeth together as he considered the possibilities… yet he knew he had to leave this room by himself. He couldn't ask Shion to accompany him, he wouldn't put him in that sort of danger.
He decided to keep the ugly purple sweater Shion had to graciously given him, knowing that wherever he was going, clothing would be hard to get his hands on. And the first aid kit, too. Shion wouldn't mind, would he? No… he couldn't think about that. As grateful as he was, he had to remember that he was alone. He no longer had friends, or family… especially where he was going. Caring for another person would only make things difficult, and his life was already hard enough.
But still… this boy was different. He was drawn in, confused yet mystified by the boy who willingly put himself in danger for him. As he quietly got up off Shion's bed, Nezumi tiptoed over to the window in which he came from. He opened it with a gentle ease, setting off no alarms in the process. With that medical kit in hand, and that purple sweater on his back, the little boy turned around to look at Shion's sleeping form. In that moment, Nezumi made a silent vow to the boy who had saved him.
I'll come back for you, he murmured into the silence, eyebrows furrowed with determination. No matter what.
And, with that one last look, he crossed over the threshold, leaving No. 6 as quickly as his legs would carry him.