A/N: Based off a text post by Tumblr user iggycat
As is usual with my No.6 fics, I based this mainly around Nezumi and Shion's characters from the novels rather than the manga or anime, so there might be a few details that will make less sense to those who haven't read the novels, although it's by no means an issue where you won't understand what's going on.
Nezumi hated fire. The heat, the way the flames licked and danced, how it consumed everything and everyone in its path, all of it. He had never lit a candle, never attended a campout, even gone so far as to switch the gas stove in his shabby little apartment to an electric one as soon as he'd moved in.
But there were still aspects he couldn't control.
When the building's fire alarm sounded, tearing him from the warm embrace of slumber as his bedside clock shone a time just after three in the morning, he had momentarily succumbed to a vision of flames all around him. Suddenly he was a child again. Suddenly it was once again the night when his childhood house had burned to the ground, taking his family with it. He flew out of the room as quickly as his legs would carry him, barely noticing the startled looks of the people he passed as he half-ran down the stairs, just wanting to get out, just wanting to get away.
The cold October air hit him as he escaped the building, knocking some of his senses back into him as the slew of other tenants gathered on the sidewalk, each standing a metre or two from those whom they didn't live with. It was only then that he realized that, in his haste, he hadn't bothered to put anything on to keep him warm and he now was quickly becoming covered in goose bumps as the only thing he wore was a pair of boxers.
Fantastic.
He clicked his tongue lightly, reprimanding himself as he tried to slow his uneven breathing and rapid heartbeat, pretend he was shivering because of the cold, ignore the sensation of his throat constricting. He was an actor, he told himself. He should be able to compose himself better than any.
And then he heard a small giggle from just behind him.
When the fire alarm had gone off, Shion had been slumped over a desk with textbooks and notebooks scattered haphazardly around him, trying to force every bit of information he could into his head in preparation for his impending midterms.
He had just started nodding off when he had heard it, and thus his shock from the sound was not from fear of a fire, but instead from momentary fear that his alarm clock was going off and he had fallen asleep without meaning to. When he realized what it actually was, he merely threw a light blanket around his shoulders over the sweatpants and university t-shirt he wore and groggily made his way to the stairwell, following the grumbling crowd that descended. At one point, a figure rushed by, earning some half-hearted complaints from those he pushed aside, but Shion barely paid the person any mind other than to note that the poor sap was wearing hardly anything.
Once outside, he absentmindedly gazed at the people who had amassed there, noting a small person trying to calm their excited dogs (didn't the building not allow large pets?) as well as a larger man who looked like he had fallen asleep on his feet, and finally spotting the curious half-naked person who had dashed by on the stairs. Oh, he looks cold, Shion noticed. Maybe he could offer him the blanket?
As he drew closer, he realized that the odd discolouration he had partially noticed on the person's back, a little ways below the dark hair that brushed his shoulder blades, appeared to be burn scars. Concern welled in him as he recalled the figure's flight earlier. He had been scared.
Now standing only a few feet from the person's turned back, Shion suddenly realized that the dark pattern decorating his boxers were mice drawn in recreations of famous scenes from Shakespearean text, one holding a skull aloft as he spoke of a departed servant and two more playing at love as one stood atop a balcony, amongst a collection of others. A giggle bubbled up from behind Shion's lips before he could stop himself.
The person turned and, as his eyes met with a pair of dark grey ones, time seemed to freeze in place.
When Nezumi turned around, he was greeted by wide violet eyes staring dumbfounded at him, much to his annoyance. "Can I help you?" he asked, letting his aggravation seep heavily into his voice.
"Huh?" Oh! I- um- I- You- looked cold, and I thought…" the boy sputtered. God, his articulation was no better than a chimpanzee's. "I thought maybe you'd want to borrow my blanket?"
Nezumi blinked at him for a second before answering, "I don't need your handout."
"It's not a handout," the boy said without missing a beat, "I just thought you might want it," he repeated, his voice then gaining a tinge of haughtiness. "And besides, I'm not giving it to you, I'm letting you borrow it. If you don't give it back, I'll be annoyed."
Nezumi found himself grinning at this. The kid wasn't as bad as he'd thought, apparently.
"Well? Do you want it or not?" said the boy, returning the smile as he opened his arms that had been holding the cloth wrapped around his body, but his expression clouded before Nezumi could respond. "Hey, are you alright? You're sweating…" He made a motion as if to touch Nezumi's forehead only for his target to quickly flinch away from the notion.
"I'm fine," he said shortly, "Just a bit hot."
The boy raised his eyebrows at the obvious lie.
"Look, I'm fine. I don't know why you seem to care so much. We don't even know each other."
"I'd like to know you, though." Nezumi stared at the boy incredulously. How could he said such an embarrassing thing so sincerely? How could he do so without with such a straight face? "You intrigue me."
"…Fine, I'll take your blanket." A smile spread across the boy's face as he said this. God, what an airhead he was to be so easily pleased. As Nezumi took the blanket from the boy, he noticed a red scar wrapped around his neck, almost like the mark a tightly bound rope would have left, which ducked under the collar of his shirt. How far did the scar go? Suddenly Nezumi found himself being lured in by this bizarrely friendly person. He would have to be careful.
It was just then that the muted sounds of the fire alarm halted, replaced by a voice on a loud speaker announcing that the building emergency had ended and everyone was to return inside.
Nezumi found himself afraid to move. Even with the blanket, he was cold and greatly desired to return to the warmth inside, but he didn't want to return to that lonely apartment. Not with the memories of his parents' and sister's deaths so awake in his mind thanks to the blasted alarm.
"Do you want to come to my apartment for a bit?" And there was the boy, offering him reprieve without even realizing it. "I can make some hot chocolate to warm you up, and my mom gave me a cherry cake she made which you're welcome to a slice of if you want it. She's a baker, so I can guarantee it's good," he added.
Nezumi laughed, then opened the blanket like a cloak, showcasing his own near nudity. "You would be so bold as to invite in a lady without even her clothes?" he chided in a woman's voice.
The boy stared in surprise for a moment before laughing loudly. "In that case, shall we stop off at your lodgings first so that you may pick out attire more suitable than mice, milady?"
"Ah, but you see, the mice are more suitable than you may guess," Nezumi walked passed the boy towards the door, turning his head to look back at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "My name is Nezumi, although I also go by Eve."
The white haired boy returned the smile with one that would soften even the most hardened of hearts. "I'm Shion."
A/N: I tried to show of bit of Nezumi's PTSD in this, so hopefully I did an okay job with that. I don't have PTSD myself, so if someone who does has any concerns about my attempt at portraying it in this, please tell me.