Chapter 1
"Shion!"
His mother was hovering over him, inches away from his face. She pressed her hands against his cheeks and held his head still, her eyes full of concern.
"Shion?"
They were on the kitchen floor, coated thinly in flour. Shion could remember pulling a tray out of the oven, a rush of dizziness. Then this. His head ached dully. He wanted to tell his mom that he was fine now, to get up and set the rolls out to cool. But as he tried to lift his body, his muscles gave way to spasms, sending him back to the ground.
"Don't try to get up, Shion. Stay right there." He wanted to respond, but his vision became blurred, and he fell back into darkness.
Shion woke up slowly, curling into a ball on his bed beneath his quilt. He was overcome with the urge to vomit, and he shut his eyes tightly.
"Has he been eating much?" a voice asked on the other side of his door.
"No, not really... He's been sick like this on and off for months, honestly, just..." His mom paused, "that's the first time he's fainted."
The pangs in his stomach were intense, and he let out a groan.
"I think he's up." she announced. The door creaked open and his mother walked in, followed by a large man in a sweater and collar.
"Hello, Shion," he said kindly, "I'm Dr. Faustus." Most of his face was covered in a thick beard. "Mind if I peek at you a bit?" Shion nodded, pushing off the blanket and trying to sit. "Just stay how you are." the doctor advised. He took a stethoscope from his bag and lifted Shion's shirt. His eyes found the light scar that wrapped itself around Shion's torso like a ribbon. "Oh, my."
"It's from the... Outbreak." Shion said. "Nezu- I cut it out." He rubbed his neck softly, remembering the excruciating pain he had undergone when they removed the insect. Back before the wall had come down. The familiar longing struck him when he thought back to that day.
You'll be fine.
Dr. Faustus continued with the cold stethoscope, pressing it to different parts of his chest and back, asking questions that Shion tried to answer truthfully. The man listened with a grimace, turning to Karan.
"May I take some blood?"
Karan looked to Shion, who shrugged weakly. Dr. Faustus placed a plastic tourniquet on his upper arm, feeling around for a vein. Shion didn't look when the needle went in. Instead, he noticed a small shadow on the other side of his window. He used his other hand to push back the tattered curtain and reveal what was there, but the silhouette quickly vanished. Shion could have sworn that he'd seen a tail. After another minute, the syringe was full, and the discomfort subsided when it was removed. Dr. Faustus gazed at the tube full of red liquid with satisfaction, then began packing up his things.
"Good blood. I'll have the results back in a few days. In the meantime..." he looked at Shion thoughtfully, "try to keep him off his feet."
"But the bakery..." Shion moaned. His mother sighed and pushed back a small lock of his hair.
"I have Riri to help me." she assured him.
"At least until the labs come back." the man negotiated. Now it was Shion's turn to sigh, defeated. He nodded, reuniting himself with his blanket. A thought occurred to him.
"Doctor!" He yelled as the man was leaving the room. He turned back towards the bed, listening. Shion's brow furrowed. "This isn't... it's not from the parasites, right?" Dr. Faustus frowned, scratching his beard.
"Your guess is better than mine. You're the only survivor I've ever met... Whatever killed all of those people has to have done a number on your body. It's impossible to know anything until I get those labs back. Oh, and Karan," He muttered as he left the room, "I'll need to speak to you."
When he was alone, the fear began to creep into Shion's mind. Confusion from the illness tangled with his thoughts, and he found it difficult to focus on anything clearly besides the idea that his condition was more serious than he had originally assumed. He tried to bury himself deep in his bedding, tucking his head beneath his pillow. The sunlight filtering into his room through the curtains slowly faded until it was almost spent, yet sleep would not come. Shion sat up, restless. There was always one thing he knew would help him sleep. He threw on his jacket and shoes and slipped out his window and into the dusky evening.
The city buzzed with the sounds of renovation as Shion limped down the road, the same path he had walked countless times before when sleep seemed impossible. Everywhere in the West Block, buildings were being remodeled or torn down and replaced with something sturdier and larger. Many places even had access to electricity; others were getting running water for the first time. The progress reminded Shion that he should be thankful. Had he gotten sick three years ago, when No.6 still loomed untouchable on the horizon, the chances of him seeing a doctor with access to real medical equipment would have been slim, at best. These were better times. So why did he wish he could go back? Back to before.
He could get lost in those daydreams for hours, reliving those short days that were the pinnacle of his life. Each year it became harder to distinguish fantasies from memories, what he wanted to have happened and what truly did. Had he really shot that man? Had he really died, at least for a moment? Had they really danced?
Right here, he thought as he entered the lightless room, far now from the surface of the world. This is where it happened, right? He lit an oil lamp and its glow engulfed his surroundings. There was the couch where they kissed for the first time. But did it really happen? Could he have been bold enough to lean in, to act on his desires so compulsively? Not him. The memory must have been flawed. And back there was the bed where he had begged to be allowed to die, and nearly did. At least he had no doubt in that memory's legitimacy. Its reminder was coiled around his body and stained into his hair. It made the experience impossible to forget.
And everywhere, books. Shion couldn't shake the worry as he picked one up, its cover torn from its main text. It wasn't a surprise when Nezumi had left him behind. It was an unspoken agreement that he would only humor Shion's presence until other arrangements were available. But the books concerned him. The fact that Nezumi could abandon his collection and allow it to reach this condition had never been something Shion had foreseen.
He moved towards the bedroom, laying down gingerly. The smell was gone; had been for months, maybe years now. But if Shion closed his eyes long enough, he could feel the phantom presence of another person beside him, breathing softly. Shion let out a longing moan.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Shion's heart nearly stopped. He opened his eyes.
That was real.
