"The sky looks pissed, the wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin,
And you, my love, are gone."
Shion's throat felt dry as he opened the door to a room that once held his entire life. The sun was setting over the crumbling walls of No.6, causing orange rays of light to filter in through his blinds and trail all over his desk, floor, and bed. It was a sight to behold; one filled with the promise of a brighter tomorrow and the end of an emotionally taxing day… Yet, despite all of his, in his current emotional state, Shion couldn't consider either lines of thought. His fingers could barely unlatch themselves from the brass knob of his door, bare feet still teetering on the seams of carpet that separated the stairway from his bedroom, from distraction to the most painful reality Shion had ever come to know.
Nezumi was gone. He had left, he had vanished into the horizon line with that black leather jacket and those old, worn boots, never once stopping to look back.
As he finally forced himself to glance around the room he slept in for four years, his eyes saw nothing that appealed to him. There were no classic works of literature, no poems, no forms of expression that he had become so accustomed to within the span of a few months. It was disappointing, and even worse than that, disheartening. There would be nothing in this tiny space that would offer him any support in the long hours between sunset and sunrise, not here in Lost Town, anyway. The only thing...— the only person, rather — that could make everything better was gone, he had left of his own free will, and despite the furious kiss of promise that was placed on his lips only a few hours ago, Shion knew better than to hope for a quick return.
The last time Nezumi had walked out of his life, he had been gone for four years.
Just that thought alone was enough to leave his heart throbbing in his throat, threatening to spill out in the form of heavy sobs. Shion thought swallowing would help push down the lump that had settled there, but doing so only made the problem worse, forcing the back of his eyes to sting for the seventh time in the same day. In the far corners of his mind, Shion wondered if this was the cruel reality he would be faced with day after day for the rest of his life. Would he be an old man by the time Nezumi returned? Would he spend the rest of his life waiting for a day that would never come? He couldn't bear the thought; it was much too painful right now, while standing in his old home, in his old room, feeling more exposed than he ever had before.
Slowly but surely, Shion made his way through the doorframe, bare feet brushing against thick bristles of carpet. Every step felt like it spanned for miles, every movement so much slower than he intended it to be. The door closed behind him, blocking out the feigned smiles he had presented his mother with, as well as the looks from strangers who had no idea what to do next, or what was in store for No. 6. Every responsibility and priority that Shion would soon be faced with was put on the backburner, making room for the heavy heart that felt like it was crumbling into a million pieces in his chest.
Thin fingers pulled the blinds shut, blocking the warm rays of sunlight from intruding into his room any longer. He then sat on the edge of his bed, eyes brimming with tears once more as he thought about Nezumi. Where would he go now? Would he return to his old home in West Block before leaving it all behind? What about his books? What about all of the items that were left underground, the things that would forever be embedded into Shion's mind? That old worn piano, the pot that cooked soup for them countless times, those slippers Nezumi wore while walking around… were they destroyed in the Manhunt, never to be found again? Shion suddenly felt the urge to go back and see if Nezumi was there. If he was, he could finally tell him all of the things he wanted to say before he walked away. There were so many words left unsaid, words that were now tossing and turning in Shion's heart, mocking him. 'Maybe if you told him how you really felt, he would've stayed,' Shion's inner voice screamed, making the tears finally roll down his cheeks.
Shion knew better, though. He knew that seeing Nezumi now would only push him further away. He wasn't blind to the fact that Nezumi was a wanderer, and that he needed time alone to figure himself out. After all, it was just as he said: there was nothing keeping him in West Block anymore, no goals of achieving vengeance, no job in the theater that would pay the bills. There was no family to return to, no home left for him. Everything had been destroyed, including No. 6, the dystopia Nezumi despised the most. Shion understood that he needed time away from the place that had taken everything from him… but it still didn't make things any easier for the white haired boy, the one who was left with nothing but a memory and a promise that one day, they would be reunited.
The sun was fading quickly now, no longer leaving his room glowing in colors that reminded Shion of the flames that had marred Nezumi's back. The darkness was finally beginning to engulf him, blurring the lines of the furniture pressed up against the walls of his room. He slowly began to lie down, and soon enough, tousled white locks were sprawled out in a messy fashion against a dark blue pillow. He closed his eyes as he pulled the blankets up around his shaking form, finally succumbing to the pain of knowing that Nezumi was gone for what could potentially be a very long period of time. There would be no moments shared between them anymore; no fingers intertwining like they had when they were young, no sassy comments meant to tease Shion without any mercy, no more stormy grey eyes that revealed an entire world Shion desperately longed to be a part of. All Shion was left with now were memories, memories of their time in West Block, when food was scarce and all they had was one another… and when that was all they ever needed.
Shion sniffed in and rubbed at his face, feeling more and more pathetic as the minutes dragged on. Was this how it was going to be, now? A life without Nezumi was suddenly a life that wasn't worth living. The raven haired boy had taught him so much in the span of a few months; he taught him how to feel, how to be angry and frustrated and upset, and what it felt like to be hungry, and to suffer, and to survive… but most importantly, Nezumi had taught Shion that there was so much more to the world than indifference and a mundane routine, than pledging allegiance to a civilization that held so many secrets and lies that it could barely stand on its own without crushing innocent lives along the way. Nezumi had indirectly revealed Shion's true colors, exposing the white haired boy to a life he never would have had if he hadn't opened his window one fateful night.
But more than any of this, Shion realized as he buried his face into his pillow and began to sob violently, Nezumi had taught Shion what it was like to love another human being. To be completely and irrevocably attached to another individual, to want to protect them both emotionally and physically, even at the expense of his own life. And even though the knowledge that the person he had fallen in love with was gone, he knew it was better to have experienced happiness by Nezumi's side, than to have never known him at all.
All he could hope for now, as the sun finally faded away once and for all, was that Nezumi would keep his promise… that they would reunite, and start new someday.
'I'll be waiting, Nezumi,' Shion thought to himself as his tears finally began to slow down. 'No matter how long it takes, I'll be waiting.'
Heavy footsteps marked the path leading to his imminent salvation. Within the orange and red beams of the setting sun, a super-fiber cloak draped around Nezumi's form swayed in the warm breeze. It covered his body completely, protecting him from the debris that trailed from a world that had once stolen everything from him. As people from West Block approached the collapsing city, Nezumi continued to walk away, slowly yet swiftly approaching a new life, a new world that perhaps held everything he was looking for. He wasn't sure what he wanted exactly, nor was he prepared for what was in store for him, but he knew it was better than staying in the wretched city that had turned him into the bitter, hateful individual that he had become.
'He deserves better than that,' Nezumi thought idly to himself as the soles of his boots came in contact with the pavement below. He let his cloak sway as he walked, its hood keeping strands of black hair from falling into his face as he approached the horizon line. 'I can't give him what he wants.'
It was a truth that Nezumi believed with every fiber of his being. Shion was the sunlight after a devastating storm, he was the miracle that had saved the raven-haired boy countless times, and Nezumi was the typhoon that destroyed so much beauty within its very path. He was the storm, the hurricane of emotions and contradictions that threatened to hunt down and tarnish any beautiful aspect of life or love. And Shion deserved better.
As Nezumi continued to walk on and on and away from all that he had previously known, he did not bother to think of the material items he was leaving behind. The novels that he had read and the poetry he had memorized along the way would forever be embedded into his mind, no longer needing to be physically held in order to retain its importance in his life. The only thing that Nezumi could think of as the sun continued to set in front of him was the person he was leaving behind. Strands of white hair would no longer cloud his vision as he opened his eyes in the morning, and he would no longer have the pleasure of curiously running the pad of his thumb along a particular red scar.
Despite the pain that was currently clawing at his heart, Nezumi knew he had made the right decision. He would not let his resolve waver, not now, not after finally gaining the courage to leave. He knew what he needed to do and it consisted of running, of figuring himself out. It was better this way, to discover everything he needed to learn on his own, without Shion by his side. He was so utterly terrified of the emotions Shion was capable of bringing out in him, that he knew he wasn't ready for a life beside him. Not now, anyway. There was so much he needed to figure out, so many things he needed to see and experience and understand before he could come back. He could only hope that Shion truly understood as he watched him leave, and that he wouldn't be the stubborn airhead Nezumi often times made him out to be. He hoped that Shion would respect the fact that he needed time away in order to prepare himself emotionally for what was to come.
A few years away was nothing if Nezumi was to come back offering his entire life, his heart and his body and his soul, and all of his remaining years to the boy who had walked back into a collapsing No. 6, only to fix it up for the better. Nezumi needed to do this in order to become stronger… in order to feel good enough. And Shion needed to be in No. 6, he needed to follow through with the restoration of a world that maybe, just maybe, actually deserved a second chance.
And so, as Nezumi stuffed his hands into his pockets, he closed his eyes and forced himself to continue on. 'I'll come back, Shion,' Nezumi thought to himself as the sky turned dark. 'I promise.'
AN: Dedicated to Elanra, my amazing RP partner Eszti, and Steel-Chocolate's beautiful artwork. In no way, shape or form does No.6 belong to me. There's much more to come, so stay tuned!