Spider Lily

Chapter Two

Recollection brings me back; Sad to think that it was just a fantasy

We'd already accepted that; Which many others struggled to believe

There was no such thing as a dreamless night for Shion. Every single night, he would fall asleep knowing that his body would rest, but his mind would continue to drag him into some sort of adventure.

This night was no exception.

The good thing about it was that he always knew that he was dreaming, which was a good thing for the rare time that he had a nightmare. All he would have to do was close his eyes in the dream, and he would awake. That was how simple it was, every single night.

Tonight's dream wasn't really a dream, though. It was more like a memory that he had experienced before. He just couldn't pinpoint where or where it was. It was too dark to make out anything to signify where he was.

But the lightening struck outside, illuminating the place for just a moment, followed by a roar of violent thunder. He knew exactly where he was.

He was in the house back at Chronos, and it was the night of the typhoon whose name he couldn't remember for the life of him. But the name of the typhoon didn't matter in the slightest, what mattered were the events that had taken place that night.

It wasn't like Shion could simply forget the way that he had met the only person that had made him feel truly alive. That just went to show that it was more than a dream for him, it was real and it was happening again as he slept.

His unconscious body stiffened when the dream Shion screamed out into the typhoon with all his being. He knew what would happen next, even though it was just a little bit fuzzy.

Just moments after walking back through the glass doors, he would turn around and see a boy that was his age staring at him with all the rage of a rat in a cage.

If it really been the past, however, there would have been no way for him to actually know that the boy that looked so much like a girl, was in actuality a literal rat in a cage, and there was no way for Shion to know that he had the key to freedom in his hand.

It was just the way that Nezumi looked so... Frightened. Scared. It lured Shion in so easily, too. Just like a siren in one the few mythical stories that No. 6 allowed.

That didn't matter much to him, since was like one of the captains of one of the ships that was being pulled in by the song of the typhoon and the deadly, yet frightened gaze.

And as it would have it, Dream-Shion blinked and unconscious Shion wasn't so out of it.

Shion groaned and tried to pull himself up from under the covers, but that wasn't working too well for him since muscles he didn't know existed decided just then to throb to excessive amounts. Instead of giving up before he was even ahead by laying back down on the bed, he pulled his aching legs out from under the covers and into the cool morning air, swinging them over the bedside.

He was grateful that he had somehow gotten the bottom bunk, or he would have surely fallen off the bed and into a crumple on the floor.

Instead of trying to move anymore, he looked around the room. He could hear his mother softly snoring above him, and he could easily make out the sleeping form of Shi-Shi in his crib.

If they were both sill sleeping, then he had to of either been up extremely early or had slept all day. He scanned the room again, shivering this time, in search of the digital clock. Usually the bright light from it would have blinded him, but he could see it clearly without any kind of pain coming to the back of his eyelids.

It was only forty-five past three in the morning.

He was just up early, that's all.

His mother, Karan, would be waking up in less than an hour to start baking the bread that she would be selling that day. There wasn't a point in him trying to fall back asleep, so he pulled himself out of the bed. He flinched at the cold tile beneath his feet, walking towards the small kitchenette as fast as he could so he could make a pot of coffee. That would have been a great idea, too, if his legs didn't decide to give out on him right as he took his first step.

He didn't fall though, just wobbled on his feet for a moment before trying again, only to get the same exact result.

He really had to have been out of shape if he couldn't even handle planting flowers for a few hours.

But then again, he was in the same position for several hours at a time...

Shion shook his mane of white hair, scolding himself for not being able to handle something as "pitiful" as that. 'Nezumi would have been able to do it seven times in a row...' Shion thought bitterly to himself, more so towards his lack of "strength" than to Nezumi's exaggerated ability to pretty much do whatever he felt like he could do.

He couldn't dwell on something silly like that, for if Nezumi was there he would scold him til he was certain that he would never think that way again.

Oh, the bittersweet memories that resurfaced when he thought of the dark-haired man. Shion thought from time to time if he looked any different. He often wondered if his hair was any longer (Or if he cut it off) Or maybe Shion was actually taller than him, for once. Was he skinnier? He would most likely be stronger where Shion was weak, as it was to be expected.

There was just so much that he wondered about appearance, because he just knew that his personality would never change.

Shion read in a book that wasn't destroyed along with the Wall that said that it was very unlikely that personalities changed; He just hoped that would be true. He wouldn't want to reunite with someone different than who he made a promise to. It would be very unfortunate if he did.

dingding

Oh boy, the coffee was ready. As he poured his first cup of the bitter liquid, a tiny squeak reached Shion's ears. He looked around slowly, since he had yet to turn the lights on, searching for the source of the squeak.

He didn't have to look very far, for something bumped into the hand that was on the counter.

Or rather, it nudged the red-eyed man to turn his hand over. "Good morning, Hamlet," Shion whispered a bit louder than he intended. He was shocked at himself, he sounded like a chain smoker, but he didn't smoke.

"Going to work with me today?" He had a bit more control that time, but his voice was still loud. The small grey mouse that parked itself on Shion's shoulder just tugged at his hair. Shion assumed that was a yes to his question, since the little robotic mouse couldn't exactly speak for itself.

The red-eyed boy merely smiled and made his way to the bathroom with his cup of coffee in hand. He would start his day the way it should be started: With a shower to clean and clear his head of what lingering thoughts he may have had.

Cold water on his face was the last thing that Nezumi wanted right now. He just wanted to sleep for days without any kind of disturbance from anyone or anything, for that matter. He had been traveling non-stop for the past forty-eight hours without any kind of break, minus the seldom five minute breaks when he absolutely had to eat something to keep moving.

It wasn't like he was being followed or stalked. That was impossible, since there wasn't any way for someone to survive out where he was. He was only able to do it since he knew the way to get food from the land, thanks to the many books that he had read during his time in slums. Who knew that literature would actually come in handy, besides just having the general knowledge?

That didn't matter right now, though. He had just took a risk and jumped right into a river that was racing towards a plummeting drop with jagged rocks that were surely at the very bottom of it. But a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, and didn't have much choice in the matter. He had to get back as soon as he possibly could.

Whilst he was on his travel, he had very little intention of ever returning back to No. 6. That place made his life a living hell, so to speak. It made him weak when he thought that he was getting stronger.

How can a person be strong when they cry for someone that was an idiot and got themselves killed in the process of trying to save someone who was better off dead anyway?

He didn't have time to think of that now, though. He was quickly approaching the drop that would decide if he was to live or die.

His leg still ached from the battle with the Mama bear, and that was so long ago. (To him anyway.) If he was to ever make it to No. 4, he would have to get it checked out.

If he survived the fall, that is.

Nezumi had mentally prepared himself for it long before he even considered jumping in the the raging current. It was his nature to make sure that he was prepared for every single thing that ever crossed his path.

He had only failed in that category once, so to speak.

There he was, kicking his legs as hard as he could to get a grip on a rock or something so he could fly off the rocky ledge the way that he wanted to. The moment he left the water, his adrenaline would spike to a high enough degree that he would probably have the ability to fly, making the whole idea that he needed to fall to the bottom redundant.

But no, he was certain that he would fall off the ledge.

His clothes were sticking to his body very uncomfortably, along with the two mice that were tucked away somewhere in his worn leather jacket. No matter what happened to him, they would be safe. That was for sure.

Nezumi was breathing hard, gasping for breath every time the cold water splashed in his eyes. If he hadn't of cut his hair short, the hair would have surely blocked his line of vision and would have made him suffocate. But now it was a lot like a certain white-haired boy's, just a bit shorter and a hell of a lot more damp at the moment. He was sure of that.

It is true that if he wasn't able to see that he was about to crash face-first into a huge tock, he wouldn't have been able to prepare himself the pain that would have came tenfold. But he did see it, and as he thought he would, he slammed into it at full force.

That didn't stop him, though. The river threw him from side to side, trying to drown him in the freezing November water. All his clothes were wet and if he didn't get out of them soon, he would soon contract hypothermia and surely die, since there was no body heat where there were no humans.

Another quick memory flashed to the front of his brain: The memory of when he and Shion had first met. He had said to the (at the time) Brown eyed boy that humans were warm. That meant they were alive. It was still that way, and it would always be like that as far as he was concerned.

'Is this what they call 'Life flashing before your eyes?'' Nezumi thought as his foot was caught by a small rock that sent him underwater for just a moment.

'If so, my flash is delayed,' Even when he would probably die, he could still make jokes for himself.

His life must have only consisted of one thing, then, because they only thing that he could think of as he got ever so closer to the fall was himself and Shion during the very short months that were lived in the slums in the small apartment that was the most comfortable size for Nezumi until Shion decided to go do something stupid like questioning his government. But really, Nezumi was glad that he did that. It showed that Shion wasn't like every other brainless goon in the damnable city that he hated.

It gave him hope, to say the least.

Hope that maybe one day he could get revenge on the place and maybe show Shion that the world wasn't all rainbows and butterflies. The world was cruel, neither of them were some sort of special exception.

He could remember the way that Shion slowly realized how horrible the world really was.

But he still found a way to add the butterflies and rainbows into the evil that was dubbed No. 6.

It irked Nezumi. It was frustrating that he had the image that No. 6 was the root of all evil for the century, and some kid just has to open his window up on a stormy night (A night that he was supposed to die, no less) and shows him that not everyone and everything was as bad it was made out to be.

If Nezumi could of sighed at the thought, he would have. But he couldn't, because he was hurling towards the cold surface of running water at God knows what speed, to either death or accomplishment.

Who could really say?

Summer Of 91' by … And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

(A/N)I meant for this to be a hella lot longer, but when I thought about it.. It's just best for the next chapter (Which I have started on, by the way) The next chapter will be seven times as long as this.

And seven times two is fourteen so that's fourteen-thousand words you're looking at ;D

By the way, I haven't edited this because I wanted you guys to have something to soothe you until I can get the next chapter in lol.

If you don't mind, please review. I really appreciate the nice comments C: /hearts.