"To sleep, perchance to dream—Ay, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause." (Hamlet; Shakespeare)

Nezumi had read Hamlet so many times that the book was beginning to fall apart. Its pages were yellow, torn, and dog-eared at his favorite parts. The brittle book had the sweet aroma old books usually had, and the words trapped inside were as beautiful as they were at first print.

The part he was reading was one of his favorites because it always made him think, and whenever he thought he had arrived at an answer, a new idea would pop in his head, and he would think about it all over again. In short, it was saying, "What will happen after death?" After we get our final sleep, what dreams will come afterwards? He'd always wondered about that, and wondered what his people would be doing now… What afterlife did the Forest Folk have? If there was any at all? He hoped it was a good one.

"I'm home!" Sion's voice interrupted his thoughts. Nezumi blinked; he had not even heard the door open. Sion was hanging his coat on the coatrack, his shock of white hair messy and a smile drawn on his face.

"Welcome back," Nezumi said. "How were the mutts today?"

"They couldn't sit still, for some reason. I had a hard time washing them, but it was fun." Sion sat down next to Nezumi on the dingy old couch. "What're you reading?"

"Hamlet," replied Nezumi. "It's written by the same person who wrote MacBeth."

Sion leaned over and read the passage Nezumi was pondering a minute ago. "'What dreams may come...' What does this mean?"

Nezumi would have made a smart remark, but he knew that anyone not familiar with Shakespeare generally had a hard time understanding it. Sion, who had been sheltered by the 'Holy City' No. 6 his whole life would not be inclined to understand it easily. "It's saying that once we shed our mortal bodies—once we die—what happens afterward? What dreams do we have when we die?"

"I'd think none," Sion answered simply. "Once you're dead, you're brain stops functioning and your body decomposes—"

"In scientific theories, those 'facts' are true. No. 6 raised you to think like that, I suppose. But if you put all those aside, nothing is really certain, isn't it? No one has come back from death to tell you what its like."

Sion pondered this for a moment. "I think you're just over-thinking things."

"On the contrary," Nezumi said with a smirk, "I think you're under-thinking things. Questions are always more valuable than answers, and questioning everything gives you a wider perspective."

Cravat scurried across the couch and sat on Sion's lap, settling itself there and sleeping. "I suppose you're right…" Sion said quietly. Nezumi laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Right after I tell you to question everything, you go and accept my ideas anyway."

"Well, you're one to talk! Your ideas are always pretty black and white all the time. You're always talking about good and evil, friends and enemies. Where're your gray areas? Your questioning?"

Nezumi was taken aback. Sion had driven him into a corner this time. He had no argument. Clearing his throat, and said, "I think we're getting off topic, anyway—"

"Hey, that's not fair!"

Nezumi ignored him. "What did you think was after death when you were in No. 6?"

Sion glared at him for a few seconds, then sighed. "Nothing really, I suppose. I was taught that after you die, that's it—your mind and body decompose and cease to exist. That was always the most logical way."

"Logic only comes to fruition from imagination."

"You like hearing yourself talk, don't you?" Sion barbed. "What are your thoughts on death, then?"

"I'm not sure," Nezumi replied, ignoring Sion's rude remark. "Dreams, death, reality—who knows? How do you know Cravat is in reality right now? He's somewhere far off in his dreams right now, and that is real right now for him. Who knows what its like after death? That's why its fun to think about."

"Cravat's here because I can see him," Sion said simply. "And it still sounds like a headache more than anything. Yet at the same time, intriguing."

"I suppose," said Nezumi.

"Personally, I don't care what happens to me after death," Sion said. He turned to Nezumi. "But I think that if I got to spend an afterlife with you, it would be worth it."

"What?" Nezumi found his face grow warm, but quickly composed himself. "Well, that's an awfully corny line. You sure you never read any of these classics before?" He got up and headed toward the kitchen. "I bet you're hungry. Do you want anything to ea—"

Suddenly a pair of arms was wrapped around his waist. Sion's voice was at his ear—

"I don't think it matters what happens after death right now. As long as we're alive, we should focus on that. Right?"

"I don't like being preached to by a naïve boy."

"Then I won't preach," Sion said, giving Nezumi a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Then help cook," Nezumi said curtly, shoving a pan into Sion and burying himself in a cabinet.

He was always baffled by the kind of answers Sion gave, and even more puzzled by how much he felt unable to argue back.

Everyday he felt more intrigued by this boy who had stumbled into his life.

And each day he fell more and more in love without realizing it.

So in English recently we watched the movie 'What Dreams May Come' and as I was doing my homework for it and I was staring at the quote up top . . . I was just like "OMG I have to do a fanfic for this!" xD Mostly because I kept thinking of what Nezumi might think of this. So I abandoned my homework momentarily to write up this derpy little fanfic for you. :D Also, I think I have a thing for Seme!Sion. xD I've always thought of Nezumi as a seme, but I feel like whenever I tend to write this pair it ends up being Sion. Oh well. If you have any thoughts on it, please review!