No. 6 is not mine, nor are the characters within. Only the plot for this fanfiction, my left sock, and my right shoe are truly mine. I hope you enjoy this creation.

Karan knew Shion had had trouble sleeping since he'd returned from the West District- since the Wall had fallen. Since Nezumi had left.

His difficulty was painfully clear when she passed his room at night to the sounds of his whimpers. It was obvious when his terrified screams startled her awake at night.

His sleepless nights showed themselves in the bags beneath his eyes and in the way he was awake each morning even before her, nursing a long-cold cup of coffee by the time she began preparing the day's bread.

The things he had done, what he had seen, showed in the way that he rubbed his chest when he was stressed and in the way he stayed at work long into the nights, driving himself to exhaustion in order to avoid his dreams.

But most of all, his experiences showed in his hardened eyes and in stiff, fake smiles. The real ones were few and far between.

Karan did what she could, of course. She listened to his stories on the rare occasions he wanted to talk. She remained cheerful and continued loving him as well as she could. She hugged him, baked cakes, and gave him hot chocolate. She encouraged him and held him as he cried.

It wasn't enough.

Shion would smile faintly at her, but she could see the pain beneath his façade. As the months passed, he spent hours staring out the window. His smiles slowly faded and then stopped. He didn't laugh.

Karan did the only thing she could think of, the last desperate move she could make before Shion faded completely: she turned to the one who had already saved her son's life so many times, and who had permanently changed it.

Contacting him was the difficult part. She knew that Nezumi had left No. 6 to pursue his travels and that he had once promised to return.

It was Dogkeeper she turned to, in the end. As she waited, she hoped that Nezumi had received her message and would return soon. She could do nothing more for Shion, even when (especially when) his terrified howls of "Nezumi!" echoed through the house at night. She willed him to hurry home, to come back quickly so her son would finally be at peace.

Karan knew almost the exact time he returned: between 2 and 5 a.m. on Tuesday, January 27, a bit over three and a half years after his departure. Karan hummed to herself as she made that morning's batch of bread, as well as an extra cherry cake to celebrate. When Shion finally entered the bakery, he seemed stunned and confused.

"Good morning, Shion," She said cheerfully. "I called your work for you and told them you wouldn't be coming in today."

He stared at her for a moment before alarm flashed across his face. "But-!"

"Now, none of that, Shion," Karan scolded gently. "You work so hard that nobody even remembers the last time you took a day for yourself, except for when we had to force you into bed because you'd pushed yourself too hard again."

He nodded weakly, his internal conflict plain on his face as Karan smiled gently.

"Now be a dear and go tell Nezumi that breakfast will be ready soon, will you?"

Shion's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "How- how did you-?"

"How did I know? I'm your mother, silly. Of course I knew."

He nodded weakly, and went to do as she'd said.

It wasn't until several years later, when Shion brought it up again, that she told him how she'd known of Nezumi's return so quickly. She smiled at him sadly, her gaze softening.

"That was the night you stopped screaming," she said simply.

Karan turned away from Shion's shocked gaze and resumed kneading her dough.