Disclaimer: No.6 and it's characters do not belong to me in any way. It belongs to the rightful writer Atsuko Asano, and was illustrated by Hinoki Kino.

Shion the Prince

Shion sighed. It was that kind of sigh that literally weighed down on your chest, and clenched at your heart. An all-body sigh that made the heart palpitations a little bit harder. His heart skipped an awful lot throughout the day; but it seemed that this year, as it was nearing it's end, was at it's peak.

Ten long years have passed Shion. Days came and they went, just like it had been for everyone else - but Shion - Shion in vain attempts would absentmindedly reach forth to grasp at thin air. Silently hoping that time would stop. Maybe just for him, he would think to himself; maybe just for him, some overseeing being will do it just for him.

The white-haired man smiled bitterly, soft eyes narrowing.

He sought comfort in the rim of his old mug, tracing a pale finger over the brim. The contents within this mug, a bitter coffee, fell victim to room temperature. Yet it wasn't this fact that made his throat dry, or his shoulders to droop in a soft tremble.

It was the fact that this would mark just another year without Nezumi.

When Shion would lift his head, as he did countless times a day, the only image ever available: Was the mocking image of an opened window. A window that has rusted in its place due to years of rain and sun, snow and humidity. Shion had made it appoint to never close his window for any reason; never missing the chance that Nezumi might need his help again - or when he finally decided to come back home.

However; as painful as a thought was, Nezumi refused to come for anything. It was an even harder idea - thought - that maybe Nezumi had the audacity to lie to the poor Prince.

Lied.

As cunning as the Rat has always been, he couldn't have lied to Shion - he couldn't have - Shion was far too precious to Nezumi.

He was, wasn't he? Or maybe that was the idea?

" But hasn't Nezumi returned...? " Shion muttered to himself. He wasn't an inpatient man, but the last time he waited for Nezumi like this - there was no promise that he would return at all - yet he still came. It could've been just like this, but having it done once to him already, didn't make anything any easier.

What was a twenty-six-year old doctor supposed to do at this point?

There was nothing he could, and no amount of experience with his patients and diagnosing ranges of illnesses to common colds; could ever prep him for this dull ache sitting at the bottom of his ribs. Just lying there, dormant; a horrible grieve that stopped growing as he aged with evident wrinkles over his brow. It was a pain that seemed to be waiting for him until he finally gave in like how some might think - in despair.

But being so long from Nezumi had numbed the pain, and though he yeared and yearned, and would lie awake at night, thinking over his life with the Rat; they were all just memories, after all.

A children's doctor Shion became, and the all-nighters of tending to anxiety-stricken adolescents, weren't doing him very well either. Stress after stress was how the man's story became.

It wasn't exactly horrible, but Shion thought he'd do better without thinking about how Nezumi might be waiting for him in his room, or where he was. Shion even missed Safu at certain times, and thinking about Nezumi brought along those long-cherished memories of Safu as well.

Nobody would understand how horrible Shion would feel.

Since the walls have finally caved in, society has learned to adapt to the strangers - ex-habitants - of the West wall and the world was rebuild in ten years. Shion was a hero, along with the unheard of Nezumi; but the little flower was respected and well-known.

Even Dogkeeper had a beautiful place to stay with his whole family, thanks to Shion. Dogkeeper actually worked as an assistant of sorts to Shion; using the dogs as comfort for the children.

The little flower had a wonderful family going for him, and even the little boy he adopted years ago was growing to be a fine man. Rikiga learned the ways of children and acted as the boys uncle when Shion couldn't be around.

But the more he looked at his child, especially, there was something that still racked at his brain, and he was distracted. Too distracted to pay attention to the boys drawings or his grades in school.

This wasn't right. This was Shion neglecting his boy, and he knew he was in every wrong.

Shion understood this.

The man gently cupped his face and merely listened to the coming pitter-patter of the rain. He had no heart to even stare out there and watch worlds skies darken the way it did; mirroring his inner-workings, how all he wanted to do was wail at the rain. He sometimes thought that maybe if he screamed like he did that night, then Nezumi would come.

But he didn't; having no heart to mimic something as bittersweet as that - when he had plans of his own.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with Nezumi. Whether this love he feels was spiritual or romance, he knew like the back of his hand, that Nezumi was his Significant Other; his twin flame, as others would say.

He wished it didn't have to be this way because to be so attached to somebody who isn't as serious - can only pull at your heartstrings.

Shion knew he wasn't falling for anybody in particular. His mothers beauty and Nezumi's charm was incomparable, but still...

What did he do wrong in his life to have Nezumi never return?

" Nezumi... "

Shion stifled back a sob as he lifted himself from his desk. Slowly and cautiously, approaching the fluttering curtains, finally tying them down after not having done so in what felt like decades.

He outstretched his arms, letting the cold hard breeze and icy cold droplets of rain pattern his face. He inhaled the mossy forestry below and could swear he heard the cries of the Moondrop in the distance. His voice, caught in his throat, Shion could hardly step forth of the balcony before him, and instead, took hold of the window frames.

Shion was trembling, and all that he could force was a laugh. A forced laugh that echoed - silently hoping that would bring the same effect - but if you were to stare into those eyes, there was a bitterness nobody but Nezumi might be able to fathom.

But in the midst of his uncontrollable laughter, there was something tiny that pulled at his pant leg. It wasn't for very long before the scampering paws of a mouse reached up to Shion's shoulder. Hamlet's nose twitched as he stared into Shion's pained face.

" I'm sorry Hamlet, " he smiled. Squeak! " I'm so sorry, Nezumi. "

Not even a creation of Nezumi's could fill the void. " But I can't wait anymore. I can't play this game anymore. I have the boy to think about, and I have my mother to care for. " Hamlet's beating eyes said nothing, but curiosity. " People need me, and I can't hold onto a first love who's never coming back. It hurts to think like this, Nezumi... I know I said I would keep the window opened for you. That if I could repeat that night, I would always open the window and wait for you. " His voice was wavering. " But you're never coming back, are you? "

Pitter-patter.

" You wanted me to finally take care of myself, right? You wanted me to forget about you, right? "

Shion sighed again, and his heart skipped over beat after beat. His mind, going fuzzy and tongue swelling with fear. He didn't want to regret this decision; didn't want to regret his choice of words.

Hamlet was looking a little anxious.

Or maybe it was just Shion, imaging things again. Like the promise of a reunion that was never coming.

" I won't forget about you. I won't forget about everything we've done. But this is it. "

With these last words, Shion tightened his grip on the frames, and pushed back the creaky windowpanes with this reluctance that would make anyone think that he wasn't serious.

But Shion was definitely serious.

The windows fought hard as they found themselves stuck, molded to their rust, refusing to budge. He pushed and pushed, not wanting to give up on this of all things. He was already giving up on one thing, and he could feel the guilt pumping through his veins.

He pushed. He pushed and pushed, emitting the last bit of strength and courage into his hands.

And the Prince; successfully closed the window.

A/N's: Goodbye, Nezumi.

Thank you for your time. C: