Hello! Thanks again for your comments/likes. ^^ I'm sorry if there are any mistakes... I really tried to edit it, but I can't focus very well at the moment. Nevertheless, have fun! :D
18:37 | Shion's apartment
Shion's apartment was in one of the new skyscrapers between Chronos and Lost Town. A small, white and tidy single unit, with a heavy grey iron door and a short corridor. On the left side of the corridor was a simple open kitchen alcove with a small fridge, a sink and a wall cupboard. Opposite to the sink unit led a plastic door to a windowless and approximately one and a half square meter bathroom with a plastic shower tub and a toilet with integrated hand-washing basin to save water. Straight ahead from the entrance door was a combined living and bedroom, furnished with a solid metal single bed, a desk, a small closet and a bookshelf.
"It's…very compact," Nezumi stated and helped Shion to sit on the edge of his bed.
"It's a functional single unit. And it's just my sleeping place. I don't spend that much time here."
"I figured as much." To Nezumi, it looked like a prison cell – a sterile and unoccupied one at that. And yet it was outright luxury for people from the former West Block slums.
"There are also bigger apartments, and they all have a balcony," Shion said and pointed in the direction of his own balcony door. Nezumi shoved the light blue curtains aside and looked out of the window.
"Well, at least you can enjoy the view over the city."
Shion sighed and hung his head in shame.
"You don't like it."
"That's not it," Nezumi replied and closed the curtains, then helped Shion to remove his dirty clothes.
It's just… It doesn't feel right.
"Say, when did you stop living, Shion?"
"Huh? What do you mean by that? I'm still alive."
"Oh, is that so? Somehow I can't escape the feeling that all you do is working, working and working. Do you still read? I know you've read Hesse, Shakespeare, Tolstoy and Boccaccio back in the days, but what about Kafka, Racine, Heine or Moliere? Have you caught up with reading their books? I assumed you'd snag everything my room had to offer to turn your apartment into a little private library."
"Nezumi," Shion sighed while Nezumi helped him into a clean sweatshirt and warm pajama bottoms. "The underground room collapsed during the hunt. I've pulled out some of your books from under the debris, but most of them were ruined or even burned. The books are gone. Everything is gone."
Nezumi remained silent for a moment. He had visited their old hideout right after his return, so he already knew that it didn't exist any longer. Instead of familiar ruins, Nezumi found a frost covered meadow. At least Inukashi's hotel was left in place, fully renovated and neat looking, but still with its unique dog odor.
"I see," he said after a while and covered Shion gently with a warm blanket. "They're gone, huh?" He had grown up with these books; they were his teachers and they had always given him comfort, knowledge and inspiration. And even though he had abandoned his old life back then and thus also his books, it left an empty feeling in his chest. It felt like losing a part of his himself.
"Yes, I'm so sorry, Nezumi," Shion whispered sadly. "I could save 'Macbeth', 'The Happy Prince' and a couple of your other favorite books, though. You see, I really wanted to restore all of them, but—" he continued, but Nezumi stopped him with a wave of his hand.
"I'm glad you tried it, Shion."
"It's such a shame. Nevertheless, the Committee managed to buy a lot of old books with classics from abroad for the city library. They are all digitalized now. We also have millions of other books and e-books which weren't allowed in former No. 6. But well, it's not the same, right? I miss the smell of old books on the dusty shelves in your hideout," Shion whispered and grabbed at the blanket, staring at the soft fabric in his hands. "I miss our underground room, and the pitter-patter of tiny mice feet, your piping hot soup and our endless reading sessions when it's too cold to go outside."
It was such a beautiful place that had everything Shion desired: several thousand books and an enormous amount of knowledge, stories to laugh and cry; new experiences, warmth and safety. And Nezumi.
"But all these are things from the past, Shion. And you know, what's past is past. Don't regret bygone times. Try to remember good things once in a while, but then you should look forward to the future."
Shion sighed and lowered his long white lashes.
"You know, you can still stick your nose into the old books in the library; you can still have endless reading sessions and let's see what I can do about the soup your Highness desires. And about the pitter-patter of tiny feet—" Nezumi said, took off his leather jacket and cloth and threw them carelessly to the ground before he took a seat on Shion's desk chair.
"Come here," he commanded and whistled. A small light brown mouse appeared out of nowhere and climbed on his shoulder, squeaked, hurried across his outstretched arm and jumped right in Shion's cupped hands.
"Ah!"
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
"She's giving you her greetings."
"Oh my god, Nezumi, she's adorable," Shion said with sparkling eyes and petted the mouse's tiny back with the tip of his finger. She closed her eyes dreamily and squeaked softly.
"Yeah. She's a descendant of Hamlet and Cravat."
"Really? And I thought they were both males," Shion said thoughtfully. "Hm, whatever… What's her name?"
"Please not that again," Nezumi groaned, annoyed, rolling his eyes.
"Nezumi, she needs a name!"
The mouse squeaked approvingly.
"See? Well," he said, but then fell silent to think about possible names. Grape-colored eyes looked at him curiously while little whiskers tickled the skin of Shion's fingers. "Your fur reminds me of Cinnamon. What do you think about that?"
A joyful squeaking was the answer.
"Okay then, Cinnamon. Nice to meet you."
"Don't name my mice! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" It was a half-hearted scolding. Actually, it took a load of Nezumi's mind. It was a test. And in Nezumi's eyes, Shion had stood the proof. There was still a hint of his naïveté, his self-righteousness and his idealism deep within his soul. The young, cheerful boy Nezumi used to know wasn't lost; he wasn't gone. Shion hadn't given himself up.
"What's wrong about naming them?" Shion asked and turned his head to face the other man. In the meantime, Cinnamon made herself comfortable in the crook of Shion's neck and quickly fell asleep curled up against him. The soft fur tickled his sensitive skin, but the little creature was warm and soft and alive. Feeling Cinnamon's breathing gave him comfort. Nezumi outstretched his arm and touched Shion's hair, stroking it lightly.
"You'll just get attached. And then, you'll cry when they die."
"I would also cry when they don't have names and die."
"Oh, that's so like you," Nezumi chuckled. But then suddenly, he frowned. "Apropos crying... You know, you made your mama cry..."
Shion sighed and looked away, pressing his pale lips together.
"I don't want to force you, Shion, but would you like to tell me why you're avoiding her?" he asked. "You were such a mama's boy back then."
"I still am."
"Oh, really? It doesn't seem so."
"It's not just my mother. I can't face Renka-san or Lili as well. What would they say when they know I'm a murderer, Nezumi?" Shion whispered the last part of his question, his voice shaky. Tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his temples, into his ears and onto the pillow, also wetting Nezumi's fingers.
"I'll never be forgiven. Never." His face grew paler and paler; and his eyes stared nearly lifeless at the ceiling. "Every night you're dying in my dreams. And then I'm murdering him. Rashi. Without mercy. I'm laughing. Insane, isn't it?" Shion mouthed. His words were barely audible, shaky and throaty. He trembled. "I understand why you're afraid of me. I'm also afraid of myself."
Nezumi bit his bottom lip. His chest hurt, his pulse began to race, and the scars of that time started to throb. His mouth felt dry. So dry. He swallowed hard and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on the legs of his leather pants.
"You saved me, Shion. You saved me with your life," he said and breathed in shakily.
"I know, but—"
"We were fighting in a war between us and them. We had to kill or we'd get killed. Those were our only choices. You've said it yourself: we had no choice. And I always knew that."
He clenched his fists.
"But you, Shion—you were always so naïve and innocent. And even though I've scorned your ideals and ideas back then, I admired your strength to speak freely of your fantasies and wishes as if they were plausible. You made me believe that there's a peaceful way, that everything can be possible when you just believe in your fantasies. You were so foolish, and yet, I wanted to believe in that third option of yours."
Shion slowly turned his face. Glistening tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and wetted his pillow while his watery eyes wandered across Nezumi's face, pausing at his thin, compressed lips. Nezumi thought for a moment before he continued.
"I wanted you to believe in your own ideals. That's why I never wanted you to change. But you've changed in there."
"Yeah," Shion whispered hoarsely.
"I don't blame you for it. Not anymore. Back then, I was just a foolish teenager. I was fixated on your words, on your idea of a third way; of seeking a peaceful coexistence instead of revenge. It fascinated me. But then you were saying that we had no choice but to fight or even kill in order to live. It was scaring me. I was afraid of your sudden ruthlessness and the basic instincts slumbering inside of you, since I was always putting you on a pedestal. I just wanted you to be pure..."
He closed his grey eyes and trembled slightly. Nezumi's fingernails were digging deep into his own flesh. Shion outstretched his arm and placed his hand on top of Nezumi's fist, gently stroking the skin with the tip of his thumb. After a while, Nezumi's tensed up fingers relaxed and he raised his hand to intertwine his elegant fingers with Shion's slightly smaller ones.
"But I understand it now. You were right. We really had no choice. It was a matter of life and death. We had no time to spare. There was no time to think about a third option. I shouldn't have pressured you so much."
"You didn't—"
Nezumi shook his head.
"I did, Shion. I've threatened you. I've used you. All I wanted was your memorization ability. I was being selfish."
"No, you're wrong," Shion nearly shouted, startling Cinnamon awake. The mouse squeaked accusingly and scurried across the mattress until she found a better place to take a nap.
"Sorry, Cinnamon," he whispered and looked at Nezumi. "I was also being selfish. I also needed you, Nezumi. It was my own decision to go in there. And without you, I'd never have survived."
"We shouldn't have gone there in the first place. I knew only too well what we had to expect. I should have warned you. I should have known that it would traumatize you, that it would change you. I guess I forgot you're just a human even though I wanted you to keep human. You have your limits. And I've seriously underestimated your feelings towards me."
And also my own feelings concerning you.
"I shouldn't have dragged you into my own battle. I never wanted you to dirty your hands."
He sighed and tightened his grip on Shion's hand.
"Shion, I'm sorry. I made you bear a horrible burden. I'm the one who should ask for forgiveness for what I did to you."
Even more tears welled up in Shion's eyes. He shook his head frantically.
"You're not the one to blame, Nezumi."
"I am. You protected me. Never forget that. You protected me. And now you've to shoulder it. You have to live on, Shion. Back then, I said it to myself. But today, that's all I can tell you."
The way Shion had killed Rashi was still morally reprehensible, but he wasn't going to tell him that. It was already hard enough on Shion. And it was a fact that they had to kill Rashi in order to survive. In this case, there was nothing like a third option. It was just a matter of life and death. Rashi would have killed them. Even if they had left the severely wounded man behind alive, he could have followed them. He could have killed them from behind, without warning. They had no other choice but to kill him. Shion had no other choice, even though it would have been better for the boy to kill him accidently in a twinge of panic. Then it would have been nothing but self-defense…
"You should tell it your mama."
"What? But I can't do that."
"She's also suffering. It's not just affecting you, Shion. I won't force you, but you should rather take my advice. I know you're scared. But I promise I'll lend you my support."
He stroked Shion's hand with his own.
"Trust her, Shion," he whispered.
Shion nodded hesitantly and settled back. He felt the tiredness sweep over him like a flood of water. His body ached all over and he tried to relax his sore limbs.
"You should sleep now. I'll stay right here. I'll just cook some soup for you," Nezumi murmured and stroked Shion's head until his white-lashed lids finally fluttered closed. He quickly fell asleep. But that was no wonder; Nezumi was sure it would be the first decent sleep Shion got after several months or even years of sleep deprivation, and napping on the office couch for a couple of hours was certainly not enough to make up for it.
Nezumi stood up as quietly as possible and left the little living and sleeping room. He closed the door and sighed, running his fingers through his long, pitch-black bangs to get them out of his face. He had expected everything, but not that Shion would end up as a wreck. Nezumi felt stupid. It had been predicted. It was obvious. He had told a 16-year old who just had experienced several mental traumata to recreate an entire city state. Shion had no chance to care for his own salvation. Of course he would take Nezumi, Safu and the doctor's wishes way too seriously. But none of them thought about the negative consequences for Shion, none of them thought about Shion's wellbeing. Even though he couldn't blame Safu or the doctor…
Safu was already dead when Elyurias delivered Shion her message. She had found her salvation, and yet, Nezumi was sure that Safu was upset about her death. She was way too young, after all. But he was also sure that Safu would never want to see Shion in such a state. Her intentions were good. She wanted him to create a better place for himself and his beloved ones, a place where everyone can live without fear and pain, where people can live in happiness and where no one has to die a pointless death, never again. That was not a bad thing to wish for.
It was also the doctor's death-bed will. And Shion was more than capable of changing the city for the better. Nezumi also knew that only too well. Shion had changed his entire world in just one single night. Shion was his wonder. He'd never forget the comforting feeling of warmth and the short freedom from danger the gentle, young boy had given him that stormy night ten years ago.
Nezumi crouched down and opened the fridge and cupboard; just to find nothing but a small onion and a package of expired custard powder. He stood with his hands on his hips, bit his bottom lip and paused for a moment while staring at his booty. Nezumi considered cooking an onion custard soup for Shion to punish him for his voluntary starving, but it was probably better to put meat on his bones than making him vomit. He toyed with the idea of going grocery shopping, but he didn't want to leave Shion alone. What if he would wake up before Nezumi got back? Maybe he should give Cinnamon a message, but what if Shion would have another nightmare? He had promised him to stay by his side. Nezumi cast his idea and flinched once he heard a noise at the entrance door. With two quick steps he reached the cold metal, tensed up on high alert and looked through the spy hole. He saw Karan and sighed with relief, before he opened the door quietly and let her inside. Putting his index finger on his lips, he signaled her to be quiet.
"Thank you for messaging me," she whispered. "I can't believe he'd leave the hospital just like that."
"Don't be mad at him. He's totally out of it."
"I'm not mad at him. I never could. But I'm worried. I wonder why he's acting so unreasonably all of a sudden. I know something is troubling him, but I'm clueless as to what. The only thing is can do is telling him again and again that he can talk to me anytime," she sighed and pushed a basket with groceries in his hands.
Nezumi's eyes widened and he grabbed the wicker basket. The smell of freshly baked bread reached his nose and let his mouth water. He was hungry.
"I know what's bugging him, but I can't tell you, Karan. He needs to do it himself, and I can't decide that over his head. But I'm sure he'll tell you, sooner or later. Just have a little patience."
She nodded and smiled warmly.
"I understand. I won't pester you with it and I'll wait until he's ready. That's all I can offer him."
"Yeah."
"Well, Shion is not the best eater and I was afraid he has no food in his house, that's why I brought you bread, soup, cheese and some fruits. Please tell me if you need more. I'll let Lili deliver it tomorrow then."
"That's more than enough. Don't go to any trouble. Thank you."
Karan shook her head and raised her arm to touch Nezumi's cheek.
"It's no trouble at all. He's my son. And so you are, my dear. I know, I can't replace your mother, but if you ever need a warm hug, you're welcome."
Nezumi blushed and hastily looked away. He gulped hard and his body tensed up. Karan chuckled and stroked his cheek before she got rid of her shoes and tiptoed to Shion's sleeping room, carefully opening the door. She knelt beside his bed and stroked through his white curls before she kissed his forehead. It was one of the tenderest and loving kisses Nezumi had ever seen. He took the stockpot out of the basket and placed it on the stove and turned the knob to heat up Karan's homemade soup. It smelled delicious and helped him to distract himself from the memory fragments of his own mother.
The forest; lush grass; the blue sky; pleasant wind; beautiful long grey hair; a soft lap; a gentle voice; a lovely song and gentle arms carrying his sleeping little body.
Did his mother also kiss him like that?
He stirred the soup and sighed. After a while he felt Karan's small hand on his shoulder.
"He's still fast asleep. I leave you for now. Please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."
"Okay. Take care. It's already dark outside. I should bring you back home."
"Don't bother. We have a company car now. I'll be home in no time. Don't worry about me. Please take good care of Shion."
"Will do."
"Goodnight."
After seeing her off, Nezumi filled two bowls with piping hot soup and grabbed two pieces of bread. He brought the food in the sleeping room, placed everything on Shion's desk and sat down.
"I know you're awake. She's gone."
Shion guiltily opened one of his purple eyes.
"But it's okay. I know you can't face her at the moment. Come on, sit up and eat now," he said and handed him his bowl of soup. "You should rather be glad she was here. I was on the verge of serving Your Majesty onion custard soup."
Shion screwed up his face and carefully took the bowl. He took a sip. The piping hot liquid warmed his body, and the bread smelled and tasted heavenly. It tasted like home, and it was so good that tears welled up in his eyes. Nezumi let it pass without comment and emptied his own bowl instead. The soup also was utterly delicious.
"I had no time for grocery shopping," Shion said while chewing slowly, his eyes glued to the mouth-watering pottage in his bowl. "Well, I didn't expect visitors."
"I hope I'm more than just a visitor."
Shion raised his head and nearly drowned in Nezumi's eyes. Such a magnificent grey...
"You are," he whispered and gave him a watery smile. "You are way more than just a visitor to me."
"That's good to hear, Your Highness. Really good in fact."
The two of them smiled at each other and continued their more than satisfying late-night dinner. And Shion even had a second helping.