A/N: Oh god, here's another one for you guys... lemme warn you, it's angsty. Very angsty. okay, fine, at least, I tried to make it very angsty :3
There may be tiny tiny hints of NezuShi if you were to look very hard, under a microscope... but most likely not. (x Please enjoy!
Summary: Two days after the parasitic bee had almost killed Sion, all Nezumi can do is sink in the dreadful silence.
Disclaimer: I do not have anything to do with No.6, except for in my own fantasies... and my half-baked, fail-stories O.o
II. Solitude
The silence was deafening.
Candle light flickered around the cramped room, casting eerie shadows across every surface. Nobody was there to interrupt his train of thought, nobody was there to pester him with annoying, pointless questions, and nobody was there to completely catch him off guard the moment he thought he was in control.
And Nezumi hated it.
He hated this silence, this absence of life itself.
Nezumi shook his head, stopping himself from thinking the worst. He wasn't like this normally. He was the kind of person that forgot the past, and didn't think about the future. He lived for the present, in the moment, living just for the sake of living.
It bothered him to no end that this boy, this clueless, airheaded boy, could somehow completely shatter his entire way of life by just being there. That he could make Nezumi start to think about the past, and worry about the future. That he could make the present not enough for Nezumi.
It had been two days. Two days since he had cut the parasite bee from Sion's neck. And it had been two days since the silence had started haunting him. Because Sion, the naïve, energetic, curious, annoying, disgustingly cheerful Sion, had not woken up.
Nezumi looked up from his hands, hands that were cupping a mug of untouched hot chocolate that had already gone cold, and glanced over at the huddled form of his companion of only a few days. He was lying on the worn-out bed, covered by the thick blanket that Nezumi had draped over him, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he was still alive.
As much as he would never admit it, Nezumi was scared.
Scared that the moment would come when Sion's chest would stop moving, that when Nezumi checked his neck for a pulse, it would not be there. That the boy who had innocently saved his life four years ago would cease to live, after experiencing nothing that the world had to offer. Sion had to survive, Nezumi owed him that much.
A cracked, raspy laugh escaped his lips, his voice dry from being unused for two days. It was pathetic really. Since when did Nezumi just sit there and think? He was a doer, not a thinker. He does what he can, with regret never crossing his mind. So how come Sion had managed to reduce him to this just by the simple act of being silent? He wondered how long it had been since he'd been so immobile. The answer came: Never.
Nezumi slowly heaved himself up from the couch he had been slouched in for the past three hours, his head going a little woozy from the sudden movement. He walked over to where Sion was lying, settling himself gently onto the edge of the bed so as not to cause the sleeping boy any discomfort. His hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to lightly trace the red scar on Sion's cheek that had formed as a result of the parasitic bee. His fingers brushed against the now snow white hair curling around Sion's ear, another reminder of the near-fatal incident that had happened two days ago. His mouth curled up in a little half smile, as he imagined what Sion's reaction would be when he woke up and saw the changes to his body. If he ever woke up at all, that is…
Nezumi's breath immediately caught, his hand suddenly going tense, the thoughts racing through his mind like water pouring over a waterfall. Sion's body, rigid and unmoving, a hole being dug for Sion's grave, another parasitic bee crawling out of Sion's neck…
He jumped up from the bed, clutching at his head, stumbling around the room. He needed something, anything, to rid himself of those images. Those images that could not possibly come true, those irrational fears that knew no end. He needed fresh air, he needed to move. If he stayed in this motherfucking silent room any longer, he was going to go insane, tortured to lunacy by his own thoughts.
With one last look at the still form of Sion under the covers, Nezumi pushed open the door and headed out into the bitter night.
In truth, Nezumi longed for the sound of Shakespeare being recited by a voice filled with wonder, the sound of warm laughter followed by a contented sigh, the sound and comfort of another's presence.
And there was always that one question that Nezumi hated himself for not knowing the answer to. How had he become so damn concerned for a person other than himself? What the hell was he doing, ignoring everything else for the slightest hope that Sion's eyes would suddenly flutter open, and that the now white-haired boy would turn to him with that stupid smile of his, and say, "I'm okay, Nezumi."?
Because as his way of living in solitude unravelled before his own eyes, Nezumi knew one thing.
Those with someone to protect always lose.
Reply to Anonymous: thankyou! I was experimenting with a new style, and that's what came out of it :)
A/N: Hmmm, I guess I just like writing short fics better...
Please review, they're the things that keep me going... like I'm walkin on sunshine... whaoooo... *stumbles off into the distance*
