Sometimes, when Shion runs a hand through his hair, gently finger the red scar that trails past his cheek, neck, and chest-he wonders if this came with a purpose, because maybe, (just maybe) there was a reason the parasite bee chose him, and it wasn't by sheer luck of fate that he survived.
Maybe, (just maybe) God chose him to be like this, someone who stood out in the crowd with magnetic eyes and colorless hair, unlike his old self, brown hair, brown eyes, someone who would've never stood out, never entranced anyone with his speech or words
(But Nezumi was entranced, wasn't he...?)
Maybe, (just maybe) the reason Nezumi choose his window to jump in was because of the sheer freedom and exhalation that he felt, hands braced against peeling wooden paint, eyes screwed shut against the biting rain, and mouth open, throat bared for the world to see, feet screwed into the edge of the balcony, soundless scream echoing out into the typhoon, sound fading away almost instantly as the wind took it.
Maybe, (just maybe) the reason that Nezumi's home felt right was because of the books crushing the cupboards, pages sticking out like broken wings, the age old smell of ink and memories filling the air, a perfume that Shion would prefer to have bottled above all else, because that scent was joy, laughter, and above all, Nezumi.
Maybe, (just maybe) the reason Nezumi stayed was because he was lonely.
Sometimes, when Nezumi brushes a hand over his hair, dark strands tangling in between his fingers, sometimes, when he sings, he wonders why he was a singer, why he was born as part as the forest folk, and why the hell did he have to have this dream, of No.6, of finding madding dizzy pleasure as the people in the city fell, skin pruned and wrinkled with age and brilliant, iridescent bees crawling out of the dark holes where they were born.
Maybe, (just maybe) the reason he was drawn to Shion was because of the pure happiness and innocence that the boy oozed, and if there was ever a time that Nezumi would call naivety beautiful, it would be for Shion, the moment when he asked about Inukashi and the dogs and why people had to live like this, the moment when the boy's face was helplessly flushed as Nezumi swept him into a clumsy waltz.
Maybe, (just maybe) the reason he felt so bitter after Shion's "goodnight" kiss was because he wished that touch could mean something different, bitter because of all the emotions behind that single second, and dammit maybe Shion was right and he preferred a world of black and white. Choosing colors is hard, and Nezumi would much rather not be tied up in his own mind of decisions.
I finished No.6 the other day, and I completely fell in love with everything the novel/anime had to offer (even though the ending was just...) Nezumi and Shion are such interesting characters, and I want to write a slightly happier AU with them in it (they deserve some happiness, after all)
(Please be patient with me on the other stories ORZ) I've had a writer's block recently, and this is more of a breather than anything.
Thanks for reading!
K.K