Chapter 4

Shion blinked his eyes open, slowly taking in the familiar surroundings of Nezumi's little hideout. 'Back… I'm back here again?' He turned his head to the left and immediately regretted it—the heater was radiating so much heat that it seared his cheeks and made his eyes water.

On his right, Nezumi was perched on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest and a book—Macbeth, of course—in front of his face. The mice were sitting beside him, chittering amongst themselves.

"Nezumi?"

"Hn," The dark-haired teen didn't look up from his book.

"Nezumi."

Nezumi pursed his lips, closing Macbeth and setting the book down with a deliberate slowness on the table. After giving Hamlet a good scratch behind the ears—all the while being very aware of Shion's eyes following his every movement—he finally turned his attention to the boy. "What is it, Your Majesty?"

"Am I… dead?"

Nezumi gave Shion a strange look before chuckling. "Stupid Shion…"

"H-hey," The white-haired boy struggled into a sitting position. "That's not… I just thought…"

Nezumi was at his side in an instant. "Careful," He murmured, tipping Shion's chin up with a finger.

Shion did his best to stare down the emotionless teen sitting in front of him, but eventually had to look away. "What about the wolf…?"

"Dead." Nezumi answered simply. When Shion gave him a dubious glare, Nezumi added, "Well, I wasn't about to let that thing eat you, if that's what you were thinking."

Shion hung his head, ashamed of himself. He muttered a response that Nezumi didn't catch.

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry."

Nezumi sat back, his expression unreadable. After a long silence, Shion frowned.

"Nezumi, what's wrong?"

"…Nothing."

''Nothing?' What, no lecture, no knife to the throat?' Shion folded his arms, choosing his next words carefully. "You were worried?"

Not a statement. A question. Nezumi shrugged. "How could I not be, with you being so helpless?"

There it was again: answering a sincere question with a blatant insult. Shion was a little annoyed, but he chose to make an observation instead. "Your eyes are red."

Nezumi's gaze flashed to meet his and for a split second, Shion saw all the worry, sadness, guilt, anger, and fear hidden behind the dark-haired boy's thoughtfully crafted façade. Nezumi was an actor—in both real life and on stage. But in that one moment…

Nezumi sniffed as he stood. "What an idiot…"

Shion watched as Nezumi crossed the room in a couple of strides before pausing outside his bedroom door.

"There's soup on the table." Nezumi's voice was steady. "You should eat."

And he was gone.

As the door slammed shut, the white-haired boy sighed and turned to his soup. "Nezumi," He raised his voice, knowing he would be able to hear him. "Thank you…"

Of course, there was no answer.

Thanks for reading! Reviews and comments are very much appreciated! Also, I want to thank winry104 for reading the fic while it was in its first stages. Love ya, girl! ;D