Disclaimer: I do not own No.6. If I did, Shion and Nezumi would've been together forever!
I hope you enjoy 'The Meeting'! -LittleMissElric
"Shion! Don't open the window, a typhoon is coming!"
"I got it, mom."
After I took the intelligence survey when I was two years old, I was ranked at the top. In Kronos, an exclusive location, I lived a carefree life with my mom. Nature, animals, and even people are taken care of here. Everybody lives in a calm and secure world.
Or so I thought.
"But today, it looks like everything won't be as boring. This is the best birthday present I could have."
I was such a naive child.
"It shouldn't be a problem if I open it a little." I cracked open the window slightly. It flew open with the force of the wind. Unfazed, I stared out the window, the pure electricity charging the wind lighting up my soul.
I screamed. I screamed, and I didn't know why. I knew it was safe to do, because of the loud winds and rain, but I didn't know why I even considered whether or not it was safe. Wasn't I always safe in Kronos?
Wasn't I?
I could hear the voice inside my head screaming, shouting over the sound of Mother Nature.
Break it!
Break what?
Everything.
Everything?
A beeping noise sounded behind me, and I turned. The Environment Managing System is on.
If I don't turn it off, the windows will close, huh,I thought. I hit a few buttons, letting it know I was fine. The beeping stops. "It should be alright now."
This moment is pivotal.
Why?
Why?
.
.
.
This is where I meet him.
He is there, at the window, a patch of blood at the left arm, flowing downward from his shoulder. His navy blue hair is just reaching his shoulders. He is small. Fragile. Breakable-looking.
Why do I let him in?
Why don't I call for help? Alert somebody?
Why am I so attracted?
Why am I so attracted to the danger he poses?
He could ruin everything.
I don't think about any of that. "Blood..." I say, instantly worried about him.
Why?
He rushes forward, gripping my throat with his uninjured arm. I gasp, obviously surprised now.
Why does he do this?
He is scared, obviously. And in pain. I see it. His eyes. They look empty and cold.
They are gray.
Gray colored eyes?
I've never seen that color before.
It's pretty.
"Why don't I bandage you? Aren't ... you hurt?
"Bandage ... what would you know?"
Those are the first words he speaks to me. I should be afraid now, confused.
But I am not. I stand firm. I want to help him.
Why?
Why?
His grip begins to loosen, and relief floods me. Not that I am free, but that he will let me help him. Suddenly, the intercom beside us crackles to life. "Shion," I hear my mother's voice say. Her face appears on the screen. The boy and I are out of view. "You opened the window didn't you?" She scolds.
This is where I gain his trust.
This is where I prove myself.
This is also important.
Yes. Important.
"The window? Ah, yeah, I opened it."
"That won't do, you'll catch a cold."
Ever the worried mother.
"Okay, I got it."
"Even though you're twelve today, you still behave like a child. Get ready to eat dinner."
His hand falls away, as does the rest of his small body. He lands hard on his bottom, his right hand clutching his left shoulder, soft breaths escaping through his lips. I kneel down next to him, concerned. "This ..." I begin, and falter. I begin again. "Is that a bullet wound?"
"Yeah. I was grazed by it." He speaks in short, clipped sentences, a symptom of trying not to give something away. Trying to keep a secret.
Too many secrets to keep.
I am shocked.
People using guns in my perfect little nonviolent world? The idea is absurd.
I was so naive.
"No way!" I cry out in disbelief. "You mean there are people using guns in No. 6?"
His answer chills me to the bone.
"There are the hunters, and there are the hunted."
All these ideas are new. Guns? Hunters? "What did you say? I don't get you at all."
He looks as if he didn't expect anything else. "Right. It's better if you don't know. Instead, this could ..." He is obviously talking about his shoulder. Quickly, I get to work, undoing the few buttons on the hospital-gown like article of clothing he is wearing, inching it down the left shoulder. I look at the small-but-deep open wound and decide he needs stitches. He throws a fit over the anesthesia injection to the injured area, but I insist. He needs stitches. "You're kinda weird," he suddenly says.
"Why?"
"You didn't ask me my name."
"Ah! Right, I'm Shion, what about you?"
This may be the most important moment of all.
This is where we truly meet.
"Nezumi." Rat.
"What?"
"My name."
"Nezumi. It feels weird ... somehow."
His pupils should be more shiny. Like the moonlight at night ...
At that moment, my blood rushes to my cheeks, making them an odd shade of red.Why am I talking like a poet?I ask myself. "I'll start the sewing," I say quickly, ducking my head. He doesn't even flinch when the needle enters his skin, just watches my hands. It's unnerving. "Stitching complete," I announce when I'm done, running my hand across my brow. He leans back against my bed, looking sleepy.
"This bed feels good." I tell him he can borrow it, and offer him some pajamas.
He thanks me.
First time he said that ...I run downstairs for dinner and to sneak some food for the bo- Nezumi. As I enter the kitchen, I hear and see something on the television that strikes real fear into my very core.
"Next, on the news. Tonight, in the Western District's Labor Correction Camp, there was one escapee. It has been reported that he might have escaped to the outskirts of Kronos."The numbers and letters VC103221 flash below a picture of Nezumi, his eyes full of hate."The fugitive's still on the loose, so we urge all civilians to pay attention."
"He's so young, " my mother says softly. "How'd he get designated with a VC?"
The VC is a microchip that is implanted into particularly violent criminals. A Violence-Chip.
VC ...
What the hell did that guy do...? "Sorry, mom." She turns around in her armchair. "I still have homework, so I'm going to my room to eat."
Bullet wounds.
VC.
Ash colored eyes.
That intruder could destroy my entire word.
Upon reentering my room I hand him the tray of food. My voice penetrates the air coldly. "VC103221." He calmly takes a sip from the mug I gave him. "It was a huge caption on the LCD. You're famous."
"The real me is way cooler than the one on TV."
"People without IDs are assumed intruders and will be thoroughly searched. The system's activated throughout the city. You might not be able to escape."
He clamps a spoon between his teeth. "That's not confirmed," he says, his voice low and dark. "This city was made to trap you; brainwash you. Everyone thinks this city's perfect."
"I don't think that way."
"Oh?"
"I never thought this place was perfect."
His eyes go wide.
"You really are weird."
"Really?"
"These shouldn't be the words of a genius raised with utmost care. Besides, you hide people with VCs and don't report them. If you're found out, the situation will become very severe."
I answered very simply, "Yeah, It'll be bad."
If he was okay, everything was fine. It didn't matter, as long as I helped him. He looked like if he was handled too roughly, he would break apart. Hard to believe he was that violent. Nezumi jerked forward, gripping me by the wrist, his eyes wild. "Are you sure your brain's working?" After a second he seemed to calm down. "What happens to you has nothing to do with me. But if things become difficult for you, I'll feel guilty. It'll be like I did something horrible."
"You have a heavy conscience."
"Since I was small, my mother taught me not to make things difficult for other people."
"Do you want to leave?"
"Uh... That's okay. There's still a typhoon outside. You're so contradictory."
"People must adapt to situations. That's what my dad said."
"Nezumi."
"Yeah?"
"How did you get to Kronos?"
"It's a secret," he replies darkly.
This is where things get serious.
"Is there something you can't talk about?" He lays down beneath the blankets of my bed.
"Are you able to forget everything you hear? Can you pretend that you didn't ask anything? You can't do it, right? Then don't ask. As for me, I definitely won't talk about your business."
"Huh? What?"
His turns and his face once again comes into view. "About you opening the window and screaming out loud."
No, no, no. He didn't see. He didn't hear. No.My cheeks are on fire.
"You shocked me. I was hiding in the building and think about what to do, when I noticed that you opened the window and stuck your face out."
I was seen!
"Wait a minute!" I cried out in an effort to suppress the truth. To make him silent. But Nezumi is one person who will not be quiet.
"While I was watching you, you screamed out loud and scared the hell out of me. Shouting out loud with that kind of face, I was ... "
"Shut up!" I rush forward to smother his mouth with my hands, to silence him. He knew what I had done. Suddenly, I was falling backwards. He had me pinned beneath him, his right hand holding my wrists together, his injured left arm holding the spoon I had given him against my throat.
"If this was a dagger you wouldn't be breathing." He smirks at me, leaning forward until his hair falls into my own eyes, his mouth beside my own.
"Wow!"
"Huh?" He moves back up, looking down at me.
"How did you do that? You immobilized me so easily. Which nerves did you suppress?" To my surprise, he fell down on top of me. He was as light as he looked. And warm. Very warm. Too warm.
"You're really weird. Absolutely crazy."
"You have a fever. You should take some antibiotics."
"No thanks, I'd rather sleep ... "
"But ... "
"Living people sure are warm."
We slept together like that. When I woke the next morning, Nezumi was gone.
But not forever.