Author's Note:
Hello everybody! I'm back with a new reunion fanfiction. From now on, I'll try to publish a new chapter every week. Throughout the story, I'll refer a lot to the No. 6 novels and Beyond especially "Shion's Days" and "A song from the Past". Just like in 9th Avenue's lovely translations, I'm going to use "he" for Inukashi. But that's still a long way off.
I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my native language.
Have fun! :3

Chapter 1
00:21 | Restructural Committee Headquarters, Shion's office

A piece of paper rustled in the chilly night breeze coming from the wide open balcony window. The wind blew silken, nearly translucent curtains towards the sleeping frame of a young, white-haired man. His heavy head rested on his folded skinny arms; dark circles underlined his eyes and his pale skin glowed bluish in the soft moonlight. He looked exhausted and all tensed up. It really didn't seem to be a very peaceful slumber…

Suddenly, the ringing of his ID card mobile phone startled him out of his short, dreamless sleep. Slightly confused, he sat up properly and tried to straighten his stubborn curls. Sleepily, he wiped a little bit of salvia from the corner of his mouth and looked around, still unable to locate the disturbing source of noise. During his frantically search, he accidentally pushed his papers off the large grey metal desk and let them flutter to the floor.

"Oh no! Now I have to organize everything again."

He sighed and pressed his hurting back against the back of his desk chair. The ringing stopped and he finally remembered that his ID card was in his coat pocket. He stood up and ponderously walked to the coat rack, fiddling through the pockets of his dark brown garment until he found what he had searched for. A red light blinked in the right corner of the device – a sign that someone had left a message for him. He touched the display. Immediately, the mobile telephone screen on his ID card lit up and a photo of his mother appeared. She had never lost her beauty, even though she looked significantly older now. The tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth were especially beautiful when she was laughing, and her gentle face was filled with endless love. Love for living and the people around her.

He sighed and listened to the message his mother Karan had left on the answering machine.

"Shion?" Her voice sounded as sweet and lovely as always, but it also held a hint of concern. "Are you still at work? Don't forget to eat properly. I know you're always very busy, but whenever you feel like taking a little break, I'd be glad to have you visiting me." Shion gulped. It felt like a punch in the gut. The last thing he ever wanted was for his mother to worry about him. He should probably get in touch with her more often. But he wasn't a child anymore. No. He was a very busy adult now, with probably a little bit too much responsibility. Not that he would ever dare to tell anyone that he was thinking like that.

"If you're ever worried about anything, you can talk to me anytime," Karan's warm voice continued. "I will do whatever I can to help you. Good night, Shion."

'Good night, mom. I'm sorry. Please don't worry about me. I'm heading home now.' He messaged her while rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's not as if I deserve your concern," Shion said to himself and put the device in his breast pocket before he slipped into his coat. He stepped to the window, closed the balcony door and pressed his hands against the cold glass, looking at the illuminated skyline of the by now much more densely populated city. He gazed into the distance, catching sight of the skyscrapers which all were built within the last 6 years to provide affordable housing complexes for everyone, but also to maintain the countless green aspects of the megapolis. The modern, clean und useful buildings shaped the new cityscape, especially in the western area of the city.

Shion remembered the time shortly after the fall of the wall, when terms like "Insider" and "Outsider" had taken hold and people regarded each other like enemies. The Insiders didn't want to let go of their wealth, even though they quickly realized that they had been controlled; and the Outsiders criticized the crimes of No. 6 and demanded equal distribution of wealth and compensation for the abuse they had to suffer. It was Shion's task to find the right balance of need fulfillment and public investments between West Block and the city, and to aim for a union of both parties. Consequently, a larger supporting infrastructure and housing complexes had to be built and a new welfare program for those in needs was required and had been established. The welfare program applied equally to people inside and outside of the former city walls, given that not a small number of people had lost everything during the events of the Holy Celebration Day 2017, six long and yet so eventful years ago.

The West Block was still a special ward; a booming place for daytime shopping and a vivid nightlife. Goods on markets were still twenty to thirty percent cheaper than in the city shops and one couldn't get better-tasting products anywhere else, even though the vegetables often looked a little bit misshapen. His mother loved to buy her ingredients at the West Block markets. Many people enjoyed the lively and unique atmosphere, and they didn't know that the Hunt had taken place in that very place or that people were killed there. They hadn't seen the fear, the despair; they hadn't heard the screams of pain and agony. Blood and death. Everywhere.

Shion would never forget.

Every time he closed his eyes, the horrible events he had experienced in just a couple of hours replayed in his mind. He saw everything again – the corpses, the blood, the dying man leaning against his shoulder in the cargo hold; the begging eyes of the man who wanted Shion to give him salvation; the stacked bodies, the smell of death and fire and burned skin and even more death.

No, he would never forget.

The feeling of a smoking gun in his hand; the cold barrel against his temple.

Tears.

These images would never disappear. They would haunt him for all eternity.

It was his penalty. And he deserved it.

Shion's nose touched the window glass in front of him. It felt cold and hard, and his breath fogged it quickly. He closed his burning eyes. The West Block was a part of the city now. Most people didn't know what had happened, including Karan, her little costumer Lili and Renka, the girl's mother. Shion was glad that they didn't, and that they could enjoy their little shopping tours to the West Block markets in full extent. The ingredients they bought there really enhanced the taste of Karan's already delicious dishes and baked goods. Shion wasn't sure if Karan did it on purpose, but he always had a feeling that back then, her bread and pastries had helped a lot to bring people together.

The way to someone's heart is definitely through their stomach.

No wonder that the little bakery in Lost Town had been turning into a downright customer magnet. Karan's baked goods were famous, and some people came many miles just to enjoy them. Karan even had to hire Renka, since she couldn't handle all the work alone anymore. Lili and her little sister also spent a lot of time in the bakery each day. Shion was glad that they could help and support Renka's family after Getsuyaku's death. Especially since it was partially his fault…

He still felt guilty and it was hard for him to look them in the eyes and yet keep it a secret. But he couldn't tell the truth. Shion was afraid of their reactions. He could never risk breaking their souls into a thousand pieces. Not now when they were finally happy again.

He knew perfectly well that it was cowardly. And yet, he had to handle a lot of other, more severe issues than his own cowardice.

He was still one of the twelve members of the Restructural Committee; one of the youngest at that. The Committee consisted of former No. 6 residents and representatives from each Block, and under each Committee was one of twelve Sub-Committees. In the last six years, the Committee had reset the entire city state and reconfigured its administrative, judicial, ethic and socioeconomic landscape. The city had been reborn like a phoenix from the ashes; as a democracy, and not a dictatorship. Shion wanted and needed to pay tribute to Safu and all those people who had lost life to the city. He always wanted to create a peaceful state, different from former No. 6, where all people could live as free and valuable human beings.

In a place without violence, without crime, without fear and without hunger.

But it was not that easy. The ideals of democracy, of solidarity, of freedom and of justice were those of an endlessly naïve boy. But the boy was a young man now. And said man was tired. He was tired of struggling to maintain his childish ideals.

And his sanity…

Was it even still there? Or was he already corrupted? Did he actually turn into someone he never wanted to become?

He remembered Yoming's words, right after he had sent him into exile five years ago, with help of self created data about his embezzlement. Yoming had underestimated him, since Shion was still very young, but in the next breath he had told the boy that someday he'd reign as a coldblooded and exceptionally good dictator.

Yoming hadn't even been the only obstacle Shion had to remove from his line of sight.

Were people bound to make the same mistakes again and again? Was human's nature just like that? Would he lead the city into a new disaster? He had just one chance. It was the only one.

And Shion had a feeling that his failing was inevitable.

He cooled his throbbing head on the cold glass. After a while though, he turned around, locked his office and left the Restructural Committee headquarters, which was still in the former city hall of No. 6 and therefore the heart of the city – the Moondrop.

01:12 | Chronos, Center of the City

Shion buried his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and raised his shoulders, shivering. It was a cold and windy January night, and the Moondrop was howling. His heavy steps echoed through the dark, empty streets. Shion didn't feel like going home. It was just a place to spend his nights. Three years ago, Shion had moved into one of the skyscrapers in the city center, as it was closer to his workplace. Additionally, he didn't want to disturb his mother's sleep any longer. Arriving home very late each night wasn't actually ensuring a relaxing slumber for her. Karan had always been a light sleeper and the slightest noise would wake her. Sometimes she had even gotten up to make him food or tea. It always had made Shion feel bad and guilty, since she was a hard-working woman and needed her sleep. But all the time she had just been worrying about him, and she still did. And he couldn't even look her in the eyes anymore…

The first three years after the fall of the wall everything was still fine. The Committee's progress was outstanding, phenomenal even; it was like an untamed wave of changes and improvements. Shion had buried himself in work and he had tried to forget the horror he had experienced. He had tried to suppress the feeling of guilt, and his longing for those grey eyes he had needed to see so much, to see that he still could continue to be who he used to be.

But in the end, he just had failed.

People are dissatisfied, aren't they?

He had received a lot of hate mails, sometimes even threatening letters. It had started approximately two and a half years ago.

Hypocrite. Dictator. Traitor. Monster.

They were right. He was a hypocrite! A dictator. Probably even a traitor. At least in the eyes of No. 6's former elite…

Everything he had done so far was just a pitiful, half-assed attempt to improve things. He had the task to unite people, to arbitrate between them, to bring about peace – but instead he had sowed the seeds of discord. Not everyone wanted a union. The fact that there were Insiders and Outsiders had never changed, although some people had been able to put up with it. And even though the new administration was a democratic one, there had always been a minority of people dissatisfied with the changes, including the welfare system and equality issues.

Shion sighed. He wasn't sure if the city was a better place now. He still had so many things to do, so many things to improve and one of those things was probably his own person. They were right. He was a monster. Ruthless and cold. A failure.

He had changed, inevitably. Or wasn't it inevitable?

No. Not without him.

Grey eyes flashed into his mind. Piercing and accusing and beautiful. Shion grabbed his white bangs and pulled them hard, like he always did when he felt agitated.

Nezumi.

Ever since Tsukiyo's death three years ago, Shion's hope to see Nezumi again had died along with the little mouse. He had lost his last remaining connection to him. It had been a while since Shion had allowed himself to think about the boy who had turned his life upside down in a single night. Shion bit his bottom lip, continuing his walk through the chilly night, past closed shops and cafés.

No.

I don't want you to see me like that. I guess the best thing you could do was to abandon me. I was so selfish. I always wanted you beside me. I wanted you to tell me that I am still me, and that I can continue to be who I am. But I have lost myself. And I have lost you. I have lost everything.

I think I know now how you must be feeling…

Please don't come back. I can't look into your eyes anymore…

I've let you all down. You, Safu, my mother.

I can't face any of you right now.

Nez—

A punch in the gut interrupted his thoughts. His eyes grew wide; his body felt stunned and Shion was breathless.

What was going on?

He bent forward to hold his hurting stomach, trying to spot the assailant. His vision was slightly blurry, but Shion was still able to see a tall, muscular person in black clothes wearing a horned crown and a long grey mask, which looked as if it had a rippled beard. What an odd sight. However, Shion didn't have time to think about the man's weird appearance, since two other males dressed in the same disguise appeared out of nowhere and followed up with a couple of knees up, fists and elbows into Shion's stomach, ribs and face. He had not the slightest chance to fight back and quickly found himself on the ground, curled up into a tiny ball, bleeding and hurt. Everything happened so fast that Shion didn't even have time to scream. Kicks followed, and Shion tried to protect his head, at least. He absorbed blow after blow and didn't even let out a single noise. Apart from the sounds of fists and feet meeting his body, everything was dead silent. Not even Shion's attackers talked or made sounds. He closed his eyes as a smile flashed over his face. Was this his end? Would he die like that? Beaten to death in a dark alley? Was that what people wanted? Another path of violence? Slowly, the sounds faded out and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. But he wasn't allowed to slumber. A loud, earsplitting engine noise reached his ears. Shion opened one of his purple eyes with an effort and witnessed how a leather-clad motorcyclist with a black helmet turned circles around his body, shielding him from his attackers. At the same time, the biker hit each of them hard with an iron bar, but it didn't help to put them to rout. Quite the contrary, they attacked the man and tried to pull him from his bike. Tires screeched and it smelled of burned rubber, even though Shion wasn't able to smell it anymore, as his nose was bleeding profusely. The motorcyclist still circled around him, trying to get rid of the attackers. The exhaust was burning in Shion's eyes and made him cough. He breathed hard, tried to sit up and spat blood on the ground. He felt dizzy and trembled and tried to crawl away. Suddenly, the biker bent over double at full speed, grabbed Shion's coat hard with one gloved power hand, lifted him from the ground, accelerated and hurtled towards the three disguised frames. But before he could knock them down like pins, the men stepped aside to let them pass. Without stopping, the biker dashed forward, back on the main street. A terrified scream died in Shion's throat as he nearly kissed the road. The biker still held him with his preternaturally strong arm and even managed to maneuver the lightweight on the motorcycle saddle behind him while swerving around. Fortunately, the main street was completely empty.

Panicked, Shion circled his hurting arms around the muscular and yet slender body in front of him, especially because he just side-saddled the old machine. But it felt at least a bit safer, since the biker had both of his hands on the handlebars now. He focused on the road in front of him and kept driving through the dark city streets with the lights of neon signs and illuminated buildings flashing by. The wind played with Shion's blood-drenched white curls and he tried not to faint, since considering the speed of the vehicle, falling down would be a certain death. He wasn't allowed to die. But it was more and more difficult for him to stay conscious. After a while, the two of them reached a well-lighted place in the administration center. Shion was barely awake, but he knew that this place was under video surveillance and therefore safe, at least for the moment. The motorcycle rider stopped and parked right in front of the well-lit entrance. Noticing that Shion's hold around his waist grew weak, he dismounted quickly and turned around, grabbing Shion's shoulders to support him.

"Nothing but trouble with you," he said through his helmet. But Shion recognized the voice straight away, even if it was lower than he remembered it.

"Nezu—"

No. Not you. Why are you here?

Everything turned black and Shion lost consciousness.

"Hey! Shion! Hang in there! Shion! SHION!"