He was so alive. He was so incredibly and beautifully alive. The way he flitted around the room, pulling books from shelves, the way he laughed when the mice ran up his arm, the way his eyes lit up when he was reading, the way he smiled at Nezumi when he came back from work.
Nezumi didn't know when it happened, but he knew if there was one thing that was for certain, he knew he loved Shion. He loved all the little things he did and the things he said. He loved that Shion was so very alive.