Author's Notes: I never intended to write this story, and yet here it is. At least the first chapter of it so far.

Short version of this idea: This is No. 6 mixed with a Shin Megami Tensei kind of plot, specifically Devil Survivor. I thought the two would mix well since, when I think about it anyway, the two are very similar in some ways.

I'm writing this story not really as a fan of the anime ( though I do enjoy it ) but as a fan of the light novels. The general story is much the same, until we get to the end of it, but the characters act a bit differently, and, because the novels enjoy a lot of inner struggle with the characters, there are a lot of bits that the anime simply couldn't show that I will...very much highlight here when I can.

One thing: I will not use the word rat or mouse/mice in this story. In the same way that translators are trying to emphasize this fact when they simply translate "Nezumi" as "Rat" I am trying to emphasize that Nezumi is not really meant to be a name it is meant to be a word, and that it separates Nezumi from normal people ( it's similar with Inukashi/Dogkeeper, it's not a name, it's just what they call him ). It's the only Japanese word/phrase that I will consistently use, though I will try to make it obvious when I am talking about the person and when I am talking about the animal.

It will be NezumixShion ( because what else is there? ), and I'm rating it Mature to be safe mostly. There will be some swearing, and "sexual situations" but nothing explicit.

Enjoy.

Sometimes, Shion felt a little lonely. Not often. He wasn't the most popular kid in his class, but he had always found the most comfort in that close bond he shared with the few people he called friends. He found the moments he shared with Safu, a girl much like himself in many ways, the most fulfilling. Deeper bonds were better than the more shallow ones more popular children had. Every day he saw his classmates having small squabbles that broke their friendships apart. Not him. Not Safu. Safu was strong. They debated, but they never argued. Shion thought that was what true friendship was like. Never arguing, never feeling lonely in one another's company.

His loneliness came more in the evenings. Evenings were often spent alone, his mother was a pastry chef, a rather well known and popular one at that, and his father...perhaps his mother knew about him, but she spoke of him rarely, and there was no child support. Shion didn't even know what his face looked like.

In his mind, he knew they were lucky, his mother was always employed, making them money good enough to not only keep the roof over their heads, but to give Shion the best education. Money came at a price, and that price was time. She worked most nights, and that was where the occasional loneliness stepped in. On evenings like this one she was gone by the time he got home, and the knowledge that she did this for their well being did nothing to stop the slight chill that entered his heart.

So Shion, barely twelve years old, would dilly dally in the evenings, take his time on his way home after science club. He knew the moment would pass, and he knew it would pass even faster if he picked up his pace, but he didn't want to feel the sink in his heart when he opened to the door to their empty apartment.

It was getting dark now, and Shion knew that when it got dark, all the evil that lurked in the night would come out. He needed to get home. The night was no place for a twelve year old.

Shion was three blocks away from the apartment he lived in with his mother was when he saw him. At first he thought it was merely a shadow, but as he passed it became too solid for a shadow. Shion made to hasten his footsteps. He didn't want to get robbed, or kidnapped, or mugged...but just as quickly as he'd made to move faster, he stopped. The figure was small, his size or smaller, and it was huddled on the ground. He could push past an adult, but a child his own age? That wasn't so easy.

"Hey," Shion leaned into the darkened alleyway. "Hey," he repeated, "are you okay?"

There was no answer. It was too dark to make out much, but the other child was curled into a ball, arms around the knees, long hair both serving to obscure the child's face and gender. The clothes were too simple to determine anything either, jeans, and a splotchy dark colored shirt, not a defining school uniform.

As the seconds passed, Shion began to become more concerned. The concern made him bolder, bold enough to reach out to shake the child's shoulder. "Come on, don't be rude!" As soon as his fingers made contact with the shoulder, he drew them away. Wet. Sticky. As he looked at his hand he could now make out what the dark splotches of color were on the shirt; they were blood.

Shock was overcome by fear, not a fear for himself, but for the child before him. "Hey!" He practically shouted, reaching out to not only shake, but to pull at the figure. "Come on! Get up!"

"That hurts!" The figure sat up, both pushing back at him and one fist pounding Shion in the chest. The voice gave away the child's gender. Male. The face that peered at him beneath the long dark hair was not so clear. "Stop that! I'm trying to sleep."

"No!" The word was wrenched from Shion's throat, coming out as more of a croak than a plea. "You can't sleep right now!" It was possible that he could die if he fell asleep right now! Shion kept pulling, "Come on! I'll take you to a hospital." They would take care of this boy, call his parents, call his guardian...if he could get him to a hospital, this boy would be all right.

"No!" With a force that someone so injured shouldn't have, the boy pried his arm out of Shion's grasp. "I won't go to the hospital!" With an accusatory glare the boy began to settle back into the position Shion had found him in.

Shion wasn't having it.

"Fine!" He grabbed at the one arm again, and somehow, with a well of strength and energy he hadn't been wholly aware he'd had, he forced the boy to his feet, and all but dragged him along behind him down the sidewalk. "I'll treat you at my home!" If it had to do with science, Shion had at least a minor interest in it. Not only that, but he'd taken a first aid class the summer before. He'd never had to use it, but there was a first time for everything.

Behind him, the boy complained and struggled against his grasp, and it caused the people they passed by to tilt their heads in confusion. Shion didn't care. He hadn't gotten a good look at him, it was already too dark to do so, but the boy needed help. It was weird, he realized as he walked, he wasn't the type of person to just help anyone. He doubted he would be so vehement if the boy were older, or if he didn't look quite so feminine. These thoughts didn't slacken his grip though, quite the opposite, until he heard the boy complain of the possibility of crushed bones. Shion didn't think his grip was really quite that strong, but he loosened it a bit anyway, and after that the boy stopped struggling quite so much, apparently resigned to his fate.

Shion and his mother lived on the third floor of their apartment building. It was a nice building, with the walls having been freshly painted earlier that year. Once inside, the boy stopped struggling completely, and though he did not look back, Shion felt like he could sense the other boy taking it all in, mouth slightly agape. They trotted quietly up the stairs, for which Shion was happy, the racket he'd been making before would have surely brought out the neighbors. That would have been an awkward situation to explain.

"I have to let you go to open the door," he said when they finally reached his apartment. "Will you run?" He looked back at the boy for the first time in full light, and he found himself transfixed. Pale skin, dark hair, and long fingers. They were all beautiful things on this boy, but it was the hardened eyes that were heart-stopping. They were gray, no, not just gray, but they were light gray, eerie, yet serene against his hair. He'd never seen an eye color like that before. It seemed like they could pierce the soul, and for a moment, Shion lost all other thought, completely taken in by them.

Finally, the boy's head turned back and forth a little, shaking, but those eyes never left his own. Their color remained wholly mesmerizing.

"I won't run."

The statement snapped Shion back to reality, and, completely trusting in the owner of those eyes, he let go of his hand, and fumbled around in his bag for his keys. "Here we go," he said as he opened the door. "Home sweet home." It wasn't much. The walls were an off white, almost beige, with little decoration beyond his currently school picture on the wall. The furniture was similarly colored and unadorned. Simple and clean, it was home.

Shion slipped off his shoes as he stepped inside, and the boy followed, though there was no motion to remove his own shoes, and, Shion realized with embarrassment that the boy wasn't wearing any. The furniture and walls might be plain, but he had shoes on his feet and a roof over his head, and that was more than the boy with the all encompassing eyes had.

When the boy had closed the door Shion led him to the couch. "Sit here." In an obedient way, that was the polar opposite of how he'd been acting previously, the boy sat. His wounds...maybe they'd bled too much, sapped the boy's strength and energy. Bandages, Shion thought, lightly biting his lip. Bandages and juice. "I'll be right back."

"Fine," those gray eyes stared back into Shion's own, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Its still felt as though the color gave them the ability to stare right into his soul. "I won't run." The repeated words from earlier were leaden, void of emotion or tone. They were words, and they were nothing more.

A little unnerved, Shion retreated, but as soon as he was a few paces away the feeling changed from discomfort into curiosity. He suspected, from the quality of the clothing and the lack of shoes, that this boy was homeless. Shion had never met a homeless person before, not face to face, only occasionally passing them when he went with his mother into the more busy parts of Tokyo. Those people always looked hopeless, almost dead. This boy was not like that. Even without the odd color to make them intriguing, those eyes had intelligence, life, and purpose behind them. He may have been curled into a ball, but he hadn't given up...or at least he hadn't intended to.

When he returned, juice in one hand and bandages in another, the couch was empty. For a second, Shion was shocked. He'd said he wouldn't run away, and moreover, he hadn't heard the door open...

"I'm over here."

Gasping, Shion turned to where the voice had come from. The window. Sure enough, the boy stood there, leaning heavily against the sill as he looked outside. Shion approached him. "What are you looking at?"

He was given a shrug. "It's started to rain." It was said in the same sort of way one might say that they'd brought a sandwich to school for lunch, and, sure enough, when Shion turned his head to look out into the increasing darkness, large droplets of water had started to splatter against the glass. As though on cue, lightning flickered across the sky, followed soon after by its companion, thunder.

"Do you like the rain?"

Another shrug. "It reminds me of Noah."

"Huh?"

"You know, Noah's Ark." Shion vaguely knew what the boy was talking about. Religion had never been something he or his mother had been big into, and Noah's Ark was from The Bible, and as such it had nothing to do with Shintoism or Buddhism, the more commonly known religions of Japan.

As the seconds passed, the boy tore his eyes away from the rain and looked back toward Shion. "The story where God floods the Earth, and Noah builds and ark, keeping two of each animal for the world after."

"...Yeah." That did sound familiar, but as much as he'd just been told was as much as he would know. Myths and legends were simply not his strong suit. "You aren't afraid that it will flood like that, are you?" Because if he were, it was ridiculous. The amount of water it would take to create such a devastating flood was practically unthinkable so long as any water in the ice caps remained frozen. It simply wouldn't happen, especially not from a little thunderstorm, and he would have told the other boy as much, if he hadn't shaken his head.

"No," a twist of his neck and those captivating eyes returned to the show outside. "God promised never to destroy the Earth by water again." For the first time Shion saw what he thought might have been a smile curl its way around the other boy's lips, "But that doesn't mean He won't destroy it in some other fashion."

For a moment, all Shion could do was stare, half of him wondering if the boy was serious, and half of him wondering how God could possibly destroy the world, if God existed. Between the two thoughts, a third thought emerged, a realization, really. "Oh!" He said, actually causing the other boy to jump. "I forgot to get something to clean your wounds with! Here!" He pushed the glass of orange juice into the boy's hands, "I'll be right back." Bandages still in his other hand, he ran around the rooms of the apartment, finding all the little things he thought he might need.

When he returned, the boy had moved back to the couch, the glass now drained of its contents, though Shion noticed that his eyes were still glued to the window. "I'm going to need you to take off your shirt." It was ruined with the blotches of now mostly dried blood, and it was ripped in several places anyway, surely the boy didn't have any attachment to it, that would be silly.

"You're not going to do anything weird to me, are you?"

"Weird?" Shion tilted his head to one side. "Like what?"

"You know..." The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Weird." The way he inflected the word weird made it seem like the meaning should be obvious, but it was still lost on Shion, and he shrugged. The boy sighed, and in two movements, with a wince of pain between them, the shirt was removed.

Shion bit back a gasp. He had thought that he was dealing with a few scrapes and cuts that would need to be cleaned, the most major of them being the one that actually did exist on the boy's left shoulder, but without the shirt there it became obvious that they were dealing with more. There were so many bruises that Shion could not stop himself from thinking he could probably draw a map with them. "Not what you were expecting?" A slight smirk had found its way onto the boy's thin lips, and that smirk only widened when Shion shook his head. "I told you. I was trying to sleep it off."

"I..." the sentence stuck in Shion's throat at first, but after a deep breath he managed to shove it out between his teeth. "I think a bath might be better." How much that must hurt. It was one thing to have a couple of cuts, but to have bruises that would last for days or weeks was another thing entirely. They would ache and groan at the slightest of touches for days, and who knew, with bruises so deep...maybe even the bone was damaged.

"Is that your professional diagnosis?" The tone had left leaden and dead far behind and was now sarcastic, almost scathing, but Shion took no offense. He only nodded. The cuts that did exist would need attention, but the bath now seemed more prudent in his mind. He wasn't afraid of the loss of blood anymore, he was only worried about infection. "Fine. A bath it is, if you would be so kind."

With that, Shion led him to the bathroom, leaving both a pair of pants and a plaid shirt inside for the boy to wear once he was finished. The boy was smaller than he was, and the clothes would be a bit big, but it was better than putting the bloody, ruined clothes back on.

While the boy bathed, Shion waited just outside the door. He could hear the water running, hear the soft sounds of splashing, scrubbing, and, softest of all, the expressions of pain. Shion was sure he would have never heard these last noises if the boy had known he was right outside the door. He didn't seem like the kind of person who liked others knowing how he hurt.

About twenty minutes later the bathroom door opened again to reveal the boy. He looked better clean, it put more color in his cheeks, more shine to his hair, but still, his eyes were his most prominent feature. Before he could stop himself, Shion found himself lost in them again, those pools of gray, but he managed to quickly find himself again and pulled himself to his feet, and wordlessly led the boy back to the couch. "I still need to see your shoulder," he said at last, when they'd both sat down. "The cut there looked pretty bad."

Instead of a motion to move his sleeve, the boy spoke. "You're weird."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. You're weird."

"How so?"

"You've given me clothes, taken me out of the oncoming rain, let me bathe, and now you're going to treat my wounds; all without asking my name."

Shion supposed he couldn't argue with that. He had done all that, and had no intention of just stopping, and he hadn't even thought of asking him anything, let alone his name. He was sure it would have come up sooner or later, and once it had the questions would probably have started to boil over, but he hadn't gotten to that point yet. Still... "I'm Shion."

"Shion," the boy repeated, and Shion nodded. "Like the flower."

"Yes," another nod. "My father apparently picked the name, but it's always been my mother's favorite flower." He paused for a second, feeling awkward. "What about you?"

The boy lifted his head a little, "Hm?"

"You. What are you called?"

"Ah." The boy tossed his head a little, his still damp locks swaying heavily with the movement. An amused smile had made its way across his lips. "I'm Nezumi."

Where Nezumi's lips twisted with amusement, Shion's eyes grew wide with shock. "What? No, that can't possibly be your name!" Nezumi. Impossible, the boy's eyes were not the gray of a rodent's fur, no, they were light, yet dark at the same time, more like...the sky after a storm, before the clouds drifted away. They were the color the sky outside would be right now, if it were daytime. Nezumi was not a fitting name! Nezumi was not a name at all!

"It is. Nezumi." It was said with such conviction that Shion had no choice but to believe that it was true, and yet...it was not his name, not truly. There must have been another name hidden beneath the guise of a rodent. Nezumi was just what he wanted people to believe he was. A costume to be thrown away, or perhaps even a costume worn so often that the boy truly believed it to be true.

"N-Nezumi." It rolled off the tongue easily enough, even given a bit of reluctance on his part. He tried again. "Nezumi." It was easier this time, much easier, almost absurdly easy, and...liberating. Shion thought about it for a moment, and then realized that he had just spoken without an honorific, and Nezumi too, had said Shion without a modifier. It was normally very intimate to address someone as such, yet, sitting next to this boy he'd dragged home, it felt natural. Nezumi. Shion. He smiled.

"What?" Those eyes narrowed suspiciously again.

"Nothing." The grin was telling, he knew, but someone in his heart he knew that if he told Nezumi what he thought, it would be thrown back in his face. He would keep it to himself.

"Weird." The smaller boy huffed and looked away. Shion noticed that his eyes inevitably drifted back toward the window, back toward the rain, no matter how he tried to keep them fixated on the wall.

"Nezumi." A grunt was his acknowledgement. "I still need to look at your shoulder."

"You're not going to do anything weird to me, are you?"

There was that question again. Shion still didn't understand it, and there was also that word; "You keep saying weird."

"And I'll keep using it until it ceases to be appropriate." There was no anger in his voice, only fact. "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you, or aren't you, going to do anything weird to me?"

Shion shook his head, "I don't even know what you mean." It was simply true. Nezumi obviously knew what he meant, but the meaning behind his repeated question was utterly lost on Shion. All he wanted was to take a look at the worst of the lacerations, clean and bandage it, if necessary. He couldn't even imagine what he would do beyond that, or if any of that would be things that might be considered "weird." Then again, Shion had never had much of an imagination.

Nezumi's gorgeous gray eyes flitted back and forth several times. The wall, Shion, the wall, Shion, the wall, then, as though finally convinced of Shion's innocence, the first three snaps of his shirt were undone and with a hasty shove, the shirt was pushed down to bare his shoulder.

With this silent show of permission Shion leaned closer, taking a look. The bruising was already worse than he remembered, but the cut seemed to be clean. It wasn't a tear, like he'd snagged his skin on a nail, or something like that, it was clear that something had intentionally cut him, like a knife... "Well?"

"Well what?"

"How is it?"

"Clean."

A frustrated sigh escaped the smaller boy's lips. "I mean..." for a second, just a second, Nezumi's voice trailed off, "It doesn't need stitches or anything, does it?" For the very first time there was a hint of fear in that smooth voice. It was barely there to Shion's hears, but the hesitation gave it away.

Shion shook his head, happy to ease any fear Nezumi had, concealed or not. He was no doctor, but, "I don't think so. Just some disinfectant and bandaging." He sat up with a grin. "I've got both right here."

"Weird."

Again with that word. "What is it this time?" He began to squeeze out some of the antibacterial gel onto his fingers ( it was cold ) and he applied it over the wound. Nezumi didn't flinch at the contact.

"Only a weird person would be grinning over a cut."

"I've never done anything like this before," he admitted. "It's kind of exciting." His everyday life was boring and monotonous. He'd never really thought of it in terms like that before, but it was true. They were only sitting in his living room, yet this was exciting. An unknown, injured boy, someone he was able to help. It was tangible, unlike all the things he read in science books. Shion had never thought tangible would be so...exhilarating. He bent his head down a little bit as he recapped the tube of gel. "And you aren't running away anymore-"

"I'm waiting."

"Hm?" Waiting? "Waiting for what?"

"I'm waiting to see what you want." Nezumi allowed the shortest of pauses to pass between them before he restated it, as though Shion couldn't understand his meaning. "To see what you expect as a reward for this." He nodded toward his shoulder, but Shion knew that it wasn't just the shoulder Nezumi referred to. Nezumi meant all of it. Taking him home, the bath, the clothes he now wore, and it even included anything else Shion would do.

For a moment, all Shion did was stare. Nezumi somehow did that to him a lot; made him stare, but those eyes were cold and unwavering, and after a second Shion furrowed his brow. "I don't expect anything." It was said so simply because it was so simply true. He hadn't thought of wanting anything when he'd brought the boy here. He had been feeling a little lonely before hand, but that was a normal thing, and he hadn't expected Nezumi to dispel it. Nor had he thought of what would happen afterward, when Nezumi was treated. Would he push him back into the streets? Would he stay? Would his mother come home, freak out, and call the police? Shion had given no thought to any of that, it was only occurring to him now because Nezumi had said something.

The other boy raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Nothing at all."

"You really are the weirdest person I have ever met."

Nezumi's gray eyes seemed to be boring into his very soul again, and Shion found that he couldn't stare directly at them any longer. He turned his head down toward the bandage. He'd never used one of these before, but he knew how it was supposed to work. It would wrap around the wound, and the little clasps would hopefully hold it in place until the bandages were removed. Yes. That seemed simple enough, and when he motioned for it, Nezumi held out his arm and his obedience made it even easier for the bandages to be applied. "There!" He said when he was done. He was smiling again, feeling accomplished, and he opened his mouth to say something more, but he was cut off.

Shion hadn't even seen him begin to move, and before even that had registered, Nezumi was right in front of him, the boy's long fingers under his chin...Nezumi's lips pressed against his own in a kiss. Everything about the boy seemed hard, but his lips were soft, and the touch on his chin was gentle. Gentle, yet it seemed to ensure that Shion did not move, or perhaps that was just what it felt like.

For what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, they stayed like that, and then, slowly, but smoothly, Nezumi pulled away. Spots on Shion's face were moist where the other boy's hair had stuck to him. It was cold, but he was only noticing that now, then, all he'd noticed was the kiss. Nezumi himself quirked his lips, those lips that had been kissing him a moment ago, and tilted his head. "That bad?" Amused. He was amused.

"What did you do that for?" As he said it, he lifted his fingers to his lips. They were colder now, as though the air between them was different than it had been before Nezumi had closed that space, and the presence...he could still feel Nezumi's presence against his face. Good or bad? Shion was unsure.

At the question, Nezumi gave a bark of laughter, drew his knees up to his chest, and sat his cheek against them, his gaze still fully on Shion. "That was your reward." He closed his eyes. "I decided you needed one, and that's all I have."

When he put it like that, it was sad, and Shion felt something rise up in his chest. 'I'll protect you,' he wanted to say. This boy had been hurt, was hurting, and yet all he had to give was a kiss. He had nothing to defend himself with, and so Shion wanted to protect him. Shion wanted to take care of him.

"You must be hungry!" Shion said suddenly, popping up to his feet. "I'll get you something..." He headed toward their kitchen, thinking that he was pretty sure his mother had some leftover cherry cake from his birthday.

"Weird," he heard Nezumi mutter behind him as he went.

Later, Shion could not recall when they had fallen asleep. It had been after they'd eaten, but the time between the completion of their meal and falling asleep was nothing but a blur. He vaguely remembered Nezumi putting a hand against his forehead. He remembered it had been cold to the touch. He remembered that smooth voice saying a single word; "Fever." After that...all Shion could remember was Nezumi's eyes. He thought, though perhaps he was simply romanticizing it, that what he'd seen were those beautiful, soul sucking eyes looking behind him as Nezumi had left, for he had left at some point. The only proof he'd ever been there at all were the two sets of dinner dishes, and the absence of the pants and plaid shirt Shion had given him.

Nezumi had been the night's event, a lasting imprint on his heart, but the morning was marked by something else, something more physical.

Without thinking, Shion had stumbled out of bed, already knowing Nezumi was gone. He'd scrambled into his school clothes, and then, when going to brush his hair, he'd stopped dead.

When he looked in the mirror, what stared back at him was not what he remembered. How he has missed it when dressing he would never know. His dark hair and clear skin were gone, replaced by startling white locks and a red scar that coiled around his neck and body. It was startling, yet as he stared at his reflection it wasn't fear or despair that filled his mind, in fact, only one single thing occurred to him.

Nezumi was right. Shion was weird.