Author's note: alternate ending to the series. Warnings for character death. Spoilers for episode 11.

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Hands took the form of the cup as Shion's mother clasped her tea; Nezumi watched as the steam from the warm liquid rose, curling slowing into the air.

Her voice was soft, like Shion's, when she asked, "How?"

Nezumi didn't look at her. "He was shot," Nezumi said. Karan nodded, blinking quickly before taking a sip of her tea, a reflexive movement. As if by focusing on something else she could somehow blunt the pain.

"I see," Karan said, finally. Her shoulders shook; a moment passed, and then she collapsed on the table, head in her hands as she started to cry.

xXx

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The dog lender was waiting outside the shop when Nezumi finally stepped outside, gut bottomed out and trying hard to breathe. "So?" she said.

Nezumi didn't say anything. He walked past her, keeping his eyes fixed on the ruins of the city in front of him.

"You wanna talk about it?" Inukashi said. "Oi! Nezumi!"

But Nezumi ignored her, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked away.

xXx

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This is what he remembered:

There was something dripping from a broken pipe behind him, but otherwise everything was quiet. Nezumi's face was taut from crying. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, dragging himself to Shion's body. Maybe an hour passed before Nezumi realized he wasn't going to die, that everything was a big fucking joke and that he'd be forced to live to remember it all, and it was only then that Nezumi forced himself upright, clutching the gash on his side as he limped outside.

He didn't even have the strength to take Shion's body. Not that any of that mattered, now.

xXx

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"I was a scientist, you know," Karan said. Nezumi nodded quietly while Karan seemed to stare at her tea, her eyes taking an unfocused, faraway look. "We thought we were creating something beautiful. When I had my son, I was so happy that we could give him the life they couldn't. You don't know what it was like, during the war."

Nezumi shifted, uncomfortably. Karan lifted her eyes, meeting his. "Then again, maybe you did."

The clock ticked. Karan took another sip of her tea while Nezumi tugged his coat sleeves over his knuckles, trying hard to forget that Shion was dead and everything was all his fault.

"The mouse was clever," Karan said. After the shock of learning Shion's death had worn off, she seemed calmer. More resigned. It was an eerie sort of feeling, like the dead cold silence in Nezumi's room. "Did you train him yourself?"

"It's a robot," Nezumi said. The little black mouse poked its head out from Nezumi's pocket, as if to protest. Nezumi tucked it back in, quietly.

"Shion must have liked it," Karan said. "He always liked animals. Feeding the ducks in the park. Even after we left Chronus, maybe that was the best for him. He always liked working at the park."

Nezumi nodded. There was an awkward silence.

"You cared for him very much, didn't you?"

Nezumi looked up. Karan was looking at him with studied eyes.

"He was my friend," Nezumi said, quietly.

"I see," she said.

Another sip. Nezumi stared at his hands.

xXx

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In his apartment, there were dishes stacked and unwashed in the sink. Nezumi stood there, staring at the pile with his heart in his throat. This was the cup Shion drank out of the night before they left. This was the dish Shion used to dish out the casserole he made, some weird concoction of carrots and onions and cheese he had bought from the market earlier. Shion's coat was lying on the couch: the dog lender had given it back to him, after she took the baby and mouthed some useless nonsense about knowing how he must feel and bullshit. That night, Nezumi curled up on the couch, balling up Shion's coat to his face and breathing in the scent. It was soothing, somehow, and all the more painful knowing Shion wouldn't be there to wear it.

He didn't wash the dishes. He didn't move the coat, which was still balled up into the couch cushions where Shion used to sleep. This was where Shion kissed him that first time, his hamfisted goodnight kiss he used to trick him.

Nezumi smiled. Idiot. Shion was never good with these things.

There was a warmth behind his eyes, and Nezumi hated himself for it. Quickly he swiped his hand against his eyes, gritting his teeth. Stupid. The whole thing was fucking stupid. The world was slowing rebuilding itself, and Nezumi was here, holed up in his shithole apartment wallowing in memories he didn't need. So what if Shion was dead? Shion was a pain, a real life airhead. If anything, Nezumi was finally free.

One tear dripped, and then another. Nezumi sagged, hair falling over his eyes as he crouched over the table.

xXx

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The dog keeper was getting worried about him.

"You look like shit," Inukashi said, when Nezumi finally dragged himself outside. "Oi. Maybe you should eat a little more."

"Maybe you should mind your own business," Nezumi said. The dog keeper bristled.

"We've already moved on!" she said. She stamped her foot, her dogs whining behind her. "If you weren't so fucking stupid you'd have moved on, too!"

He waved his hand dismissively, his back facing toward her as he walked. The day after the explosion, the survivors had gathered, burying the bodies in an empty lot outside the facility. The sky was yellow and the ground was a burnt orange as Nezumi stood on the periphery, watching as the mourners gathered and the surviving men tossed clumps of dirt into the shallow graves.

"Shion wouldn't want this!" she said, and she ran toward him. "Oi! Shion would've wanted you to live."

"Shion is dead," Nezumi said, and he walked on.

xXx

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"You loved him, didn't you?" Karan said.

Nezumi startled. They were sitting at the kitchen table, as had become his custom. Somehow, there was a warmth in that shop that reminded him of a warm blanket, something mundane and predictable but comforting too, even as the rest of the world was falling to shit. Karan had accepted his comings and goings with a quiet grace, welcoming him as she did all any of the other orphans that stumbled into her shop.

"Yes," Nezumi said, softly. Karan smiled.

"I'm glad," Karan said. "I'm glad Shion had that. Everyone needs someone to come home to."

Nezumi blinked. The warmth was there again, but he wouldn't let it spill over.

"Do you have family?" Karan asked. Nezumi shook his head. "I'm sorry," Karan said. "It must have been hard for you."

And she touched his hand, and it was such a warm touch, a maternal touch, that for once Nezumi didn't feel so lonely. Karan smiled and Nezumi smiled back; he could feel her thumb gently squeezing the center of his palm.

xXx

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A month passed, maybe two, when the dog keeper pounded on his door and thrust the baby against his chest.

"Take it," she said, and she shoved it harder. "It keeps crying and it's fucking up my business, none of the dogs want to sleep with homeless people anymore."

Nezumi glared. "The hell do you want me to do with a baby?"

"I don't know! Feed it or something, tch. It's not my problem," Inukashi said. She turned and started to walk, when she stopped and called over her shoulder.

"It was Shion's damn fault, anyway," the dog keeper said. "That stupid baby wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

The baby squirmed. Gingerly, Nezumi unwrapped the blanket. The baby cooed, reaching out its chubby arms toward him.

Nezumi stared. The baby gurgled, then gripped his finger in its hand.