Disclaimer: No. 6 belongs to Atsuko Asano. I make no profit from this story.
Author's note: I have an idea for a longer story that would explain where Nezumi got his skills with the knives and manipulating people, but it was hard to resist posting this one. I hope you'll enjoy it!
Surveillance
Nezumi could never forget the gentle, brown eyes of the boy who had saved his life. Even if he wanted to forget, he knew that the image was forever imprinted into his brain. For better or for worse, he was stuck with that memory and the warmth of that room, the warmth of a living being next to him and the warmth of feeling safe for a while. His underground home in the abandoned library vault, the very place that felt like heaven before, was cold and empty now. He wasn't sure if he would have survived there, if not for the three mice that were born just after he returned home from his exploit in No. 6.
Having lived a life of a pursued person, since his village was mercilessly burned to the ground, Nezumi didn't know those feelings of warmth before. He was too young to consciously remember the love and caring of a parent and both his Gran and Rou were cold in their caring, bent on survival rather than emotions. Shion, that naïve, unspoilt boy from the demon city, was the first one to care for him in that warm, welcoming way. Shion, the miracle-maker, was the first one to make Nezumi believe that there could be more than cruelty to human nature. Shion, unknowingly and innocently, saved more than just Nezumi's life. He saved his soul and asked for nothing in return.
Nezumi wasn't gullible enough to believe that he would have survived that stormy night, had a helping hand not been extended his way. He was on the verge of fainting from blood loss and the anticoagulant from the bullet would not let the wound heal on its own. He was tired and hungry and he didn't have any strength left. It was only due to the sudden surge of adrenaline that he was able to climb through Shion's window and even try to choke the other boy, survival the only thing on his mind.
The events of that night often played in front of his eyes when he grew thoughtful. Gentle words and tender care, the hot drink and the delicious cherry pie and a good night's sleep: all that gave him the strength he needed. The strength to sneak out of the demon city the following morning, after the typhoon had passed, to gain his freedom. He owed that freedom to Shion and it was a debt he would never be able to repay, he was well aware of that.
He promised himself to try, despite everything. He knew that Shion's help would not go unnoticed for long, but he expected that such a brilliant addition to the city's science would not be executed on the spot. Hoping to not arrive too late with his help, Nezumi worked on his own survival. He stole and worked his ass off to afford food and mechanical parts to build his secret weapon.
Well, the mechanic mice that he came up with as means of surveillance were hardly a weapon unless one thought that information was a weapon. He worked on them relentlessly for a better part of a year, pushing away the disapproving looks of his Gran and Rou that his mind produced. I'm not doing that for this kid, he would tell himself at their wordless accusations, I'm doing this to infiltrate No. 6 and make them pay for their sins.
Of course, as soon as the first mouse was finished and passed his tests, he sent it to scout for Shion, which grossly belied his own excuses, but he couldn't care less by then. He was his own man and he would use his resources as he saw fit. Besides, he was curious to see how far No. 6 would go in their punishment. He wanted to know if Shion already regretted the help he had offered so easily a year ago.
He wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed by the answers he got. Of course, for the sheltered and pampered Shion, the exile to Lost Town and the loss of his privileges must have been a horrible blow. Yet, from Nezumi's own experiences and from his perspective as the inhabitant of the West Block, the "punishment" seemed hardly arduous. Even more so, when Nezumi realised that Shion wasn't despairing. Oh, he might have been sad and angry, but Nezumi could see, in the brown eyes recorded by the mouse's camera, the hope.
Whatever he was hoping for, Nezumi wondered often as he kept a steady surveillance over Shion's situation. His mixed feelings about Shion's punishment vanished as soon as he realised how careful the surveillance the demon city kept over their fallen elite was and he understood that they have not forgiven Shion at all. He spared as many as three mechanical mice on this case, one attached to Shion nearly permanently though discretely, reporting to him every day or in case of a danger, one trying to sniff out the ideas the city might have and one scouting the surroundings.
It wasn't the only thing he did, of course. At some point he got a job in the theatre in West Block, which was much better than stealing or whoring himself out. He got quite popular as an actor and, after a year, he could demand nearly any wage from his "manager" because people came to see him and not the plays. It was easy to lose himself in the adoration of his "fans", but Nezumi hadn't gone through all of his hardships to become vain. He gritted his teeth and treated his work as a source of income and a foothold for people manipulation. At some point, he met Inukashi and established her as his main informer. Oh yes, he knew that the dog keeper was female, but he understood and respected her wish to hide it.
Expecting that he will need to go back to No. 6 one day, to save Shion, he found a route in and out of the demon city. It was a strenuous path but, until the city discovered it, it was safe. Waiting for the fateful day when he would need that route, he spent many days practicing his skills with the knife as much as with manipulating people, honing his acting talents as well. Relentlessly, he tried to find a weakness of the demon city, to bring it down and slaughter it for murdering his family and giving him the burns on his back. He stacked basic medical supplies "in case" and kept his distance from everybody except his mice. The living ones that is, the three mice that were born in his room and that were his only companions. He deemed himself prepared for whatever could happen.
His mechanic mice reported about Shion's daily life without a fault. As far as Nezumi could see, Shion had no regrets about how his life had changed. He graduated from some professional training and started to work in the administration of the park. He tried to study. He didn't seem to change much. The city's surveillance over him didn't diminish, but didn't increase either, although it was much tighter than over an average citizen. The same spy for the city visited the bakery Shion's mother had every day, to buy bread and make a small talk about the weather and happiness. The same old lady watched the boy go home every day and greeted him with a smile that Shion always returned unfalteringly. Did he not know that the woman was a spy?
Years passed since the day when man-made miracles changed Nezumi's life. Nothing significant happened and Nezumi started to think that maybe he was being overly paranoid and the city would not further harm Shion. Maybe the oblivious boy would be graced with the possibility to live his whole life in the comfortable cocoon of lies. After all, he was obedient enough, doing what he was told and not protesting against being treated as a second category citizen.
Should he stop spending his precious resources on following the kid? He lost count on how many times he asked himself the question. How many times he told himself "one more month, if nothing happens in a month" or "just until that commotion in the Security Bureau is over" when there was commotion in the Bureau. Deep inside, he knew that he would never stop. The feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that Shion would not be spared and Nezumi trusted his feelings unwaveringly.
When the mouse that was following Shion reported that the boy found a dead body in the park, Nezumi didn't hesitate. He went right back into No. 6 with a firm resolution to come back out again, dragging out the boy that saved him. He would repay at least a part of his debt.
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With some amusement, Nezumi watched the self-conscious expression on Shion's face when the girl he was talking to asked him for sex. He would have laughed if he wasn't afraid that this would give out his position to the oblivious boy, but he couldn't restrain the temptation to somehow embarrass the kid more.
He weaved further away through the crowds and sent one of his mechanical mouse towards his brown-eyed saviour. He held a microphone to his lips and whispered a couple of words, watching how Shion twitched, as though there was an electrical current running through his slim body. Immediately after, Nezumi ordered his mouse to come back and, sure enough Shion made to follow.
Their eyes met for just a split of a second, but Nezumi was electrified. The eyes that looked at him four years ago, those eyes were there again. So close. Shocked at his own reaction, he disappeared before Shion could reach him. He sent his tiny mouse after the boy to make sure that Shion was alright while he went to discover just how serious the situation was.
He was already aware that the authorities were more and more interested in the boy since the incident in the park and he had a feeling that this would be the end of Shion's happy existence in No. 6. Knowing that he couldn't risk his mice to stay in Shion's house anymore, he stationed them in the neighbourhood, after making sure that the boy was safely in his room.
Tense and worried, he spent some hours, trying to overhear Security Bureau conversations on a walkie-talkie he stole from one of the officers. He couldn't hear anything concrete, but there was enough to know that officers would come knocking on the door of Shion's workplace sometime the following day.
Knowing that Shion would not even think to skip work, he prepared himself to get the boy out before it was too late. He knew enough about the park maintenance to come up with the idea of putting trash in the park for the robots to find and be confused about. He wanted to hope that Shion would be the one to monitor the robot that would find "unidentified object" and he would see the mouse on the robot, but he didn't want to take unnecessary risks.
Before the morning came, he scattered numerous small objects that had no business in the park, for the robots to find and report. He left his three mice to survey the three robots and made his way back to Lost Town, right in time to see Shion leave the bakery.
The smell of freshly baked bread made his stomach growl with fierce hunger, but it was the unmistakeable smell of the cherry cake that hit him like a punch to the stomach. That amazing cherry cake, he thought, his mouth watering as he saw Shion enjoy the cake.
This might be his last morning, he thought, turning serious. Keeping a safe distance, he followed Shion to the park. He kept himself away from the park administration building and waited for the robots to set out. As soon as the robots would move, so would the mice and Nezumi would start to send his warning to Shion. The kid was bound to answer at least one of the "unidentified object" messages, or that co-worker of his was bound to get curious about a talking mouse.
Nothing could go wrong, could it?