Well, today's been a little bit of a sad day for me, but here's the next chapter. I hope it's good! I've been beating myself up quite a bit when it comes to my writing, even though I'm sure it's better than I'm currently thinking it is.

Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you for your support!

CHAPTER EIGHT

Shion clutched the hilt of the silver knife as he slowly descended the stairwell leading into the bakery. With each creak of the wooden steps, terror lanced through his veins. His heart hammered in his throat, blood rushing in his ears.

Nezumi had come for his knife.

Of course he had. Thinking anything else was completely foolish. Shion had been anticipating Nezumi's arrival since the moment he plucked the knife from the ground, but his eyes still stung as he touched down on the last step.

The scents of fresh butter croissants tickled his nose. Shion peeked around the corner. His mother slaved over the oven tucked neatly in the corner of the kitchen. Her dark hair was tucked under her signature lilac bandanna. She hummed to herself as she pulled on a pair of oven mits and reached into the oven to remove a fresh tray of croissants for the bakery.

Shion's heart ached. Once he stepped outside, it was possible he wouldn't see ever her again.

The Fair Folk weren't kind to humans unfortunate enough to be born with the Sight.

Shion's throat tightened. There were so many things he wanted to say to his mother. So many words of love that he wished he could pass along in the few moments he had left with her. Even if he wrote novel after novel of praises, it would never be enough to thank her for all she'd done for him. All the years of love and kindness. Karan had never seen the creatures that haunted Shion, and she'd never been able to fully understand why he got anxious looking out the windows; even so, she'd gone above and beyond to soothe him in the only way she knew how.

Nezumi was outside, waiting for him, but Shion didn't have to hurry to his demise. He set the silver knife down on the floor next to his sneakers. What difference would a few minutes make?

His swallowed back a wave of tears as he crossed into the kitchen and said, "Good morning, Mom."

Karan turned away from the oven and flashed him a brilliant smile; it broke his heart. "There you are!" She removed the purple oven mits that protected her hands and set them down on the counter. "How's Safu doing?"

"Good. She's... she's good." Shion hurried over to the coffee pot. Karan had already brewed a fresh pot and poured herself a cup. Shion poured himself half a cup, topped it off with a bit of cream and sugar, and went to stand beside his mother. "Those smell really good, Mom."

"Thank you." Karan frowned at him. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine." The lie tingled on the edge of his tongue, and Shion took a sip of his coffee to distract himself. He hadn't added nearly enough sweetener. Once he stepped out that door, there was a great chance he'd never step back through it again. He didn't know what he'd tell his mother if she probed for answers. What's wrong? Oh, nothing. I just stole from a faerie last night after helping him, and now he's here to kill me.

Karan's brow furrowed. Shion struggled to swallow back the wave of tears that threatened to fall. Once they started, he'd never stop them. If Karan didn't have any questions now, she certainly would if he just started crying with no prompting.

"Did something happen between you and Safu?"

"No. She's fine. It's nothing." He tried to give her an unassuming smile. "She invited me to go get coffee with her and her friends. You remember Anne and Roy?"

Karan tilted her head and said, "Anne and Roy... Oh! Yes. I remember them."

"I'm just a bit nervous, that's all." Shion tried to give her a wobbly smile. He hoped she'd buy it. Shion had never been overtly social, and over the years, Karan had come to understand that her son grew uncomfortable in social interactions. "I like Anne and Roy well enough. It's just... kind of daunting to spend time with them after so long."

"Oh, I understand that." Karan picked up her own coffee cup and took a sip. The door leading out to the front of the bakery was slightly ajar; if a customer came in, the little bell would chime, signalling their arrival.

Shion exhaled around the rim of his mug. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her that a court faerie was standing outside the bakery, waiting for Shion to step outside and face his punishment. Karan would think he'd lost his mind—or worse, she'd believe him. How could anyone hope to protect their child against a threat they couldn't see?

It was better to let Karan live in ignorance. If Shion disappeared, then he would just become another cold case that the police department couldn't solve. It would be miserable for his mother, but wasn't it worse to let her know that an invisible threat was responsible for him disappearing?

Shion closed his eyes; there was no way out.

Karan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It'll be all right. Safu's your friend; she'd never put you in a position where you felt uncomfortable." She smiled at him and said, "But, if you really don't want to be there, just send me a text. I'll call and insist that I need you back at the bakery ASAP. Sound good?"

Shion felt a lump form in his throat. "Thanks, Mom." He finished the last little bit of his coffee and stepped forward to give his mother a hug. This might be the last time. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled. She smelled like soap and croissants. Karan came alive in the safety and warmth of her kitchen. Her skills were their own kind of magic.

He clung to her, hoping beyond hope that this wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

⁂

Nezumi was gone when Shion stepped outside.

He'd told his mother he'd take care of the garbage—a better excuse than anything to step outside without raising suspicion. He clutched the hilt of the knife as he shut the door behind him with his hip. He set the garbage bag down next to the door and glanced around.

Nezumi wouldn't have come all this way just to simply disappear. His fingers itched around the hilt of the knife as he turned to survey the alley beside the bakery. It was vacant, all solid stone and cracked paint, leading back to the little intersection leading to other streets. Sometimes teenagers used this area as a short-cut to cross from one side of the neighborhood to the other.

Shion turned, slowly, searching for tell-tale signs of faerie mischief. Normally little sprites fluttered around the trash cans, plucking at loose bits of plastic and scraps of abandoned food. Karan's bakery often attracted the small, sweet-toothed Folk.

Their absence unsettled him. Shion didn't like the sprites, but they were ultimately harmless. They only disappeared when something worse hunkered along—something the sprites deemed a viable threat.

Shion's throat was dry and he turned his head—and then he spotted him.

Nezumi had gone to stand in the little alley around the back of the bakery. From the street, it was just enough out of the way that no one would think it strange to see Shion standing there speaking with someone. They wouldn't see his companion if he was having a conversation.

Shion's shoulders relaxed. At least he wouldn't have to worry about looking insane right before disappearing.

Nezumi raised a slender eyebrow as Shion stepped into the shadows and stood before him. Nezumi looked strange in the pale morning sunlight. Shion had only ever seen him at night, bathed in the light of the moon or illuminated by the artificial lighting in the coffee shop. Beneath the sun's rays, Nezumi's skin seemed washed out and silver-gray, the darkness of his leather jacket almost leeching the light away. The torn sleeve had been mended, so perfectly that, for a second, Shion was almost certain it was a new jacket.

Shion's tongue felt heavy as he murmured, "See? I knew it could be repaired."

Nezumi's quicksilver eyes flashed.

Shion swallowed the lump in his throat. "Um... I think this belongs to you." He slowly lifted the knife, holding it carefully by the black hilt.

Nezumi peered back at him. His shoulders tightened as the knife rose between the two of them; Shion had seen this body language in the strange faerie before. Back in the woods, when Nezumi had first encountered him and considered him a threat.

Shion carefully turned the knife in his hand. He didn't want to imagine how sharp the blade must be, or how it would feel slicing through his skin. Deep down, he knew he'd probably find out soon enough. With trembling hands, Shion held the blade loosely in his grip and extended the hilt out to Nezumi.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. The buttery sunlight fluttered down around them, the light twinkling off the beautiful silver. Shion's fingers shuddered as he took in the sight of Nezumi slowly reaching out for it. His body tensed in anticipation. Would Nezumi at least be quick? Shion had helped him. The least Nezumi owed him was a quick and painless death.

Nezumi's long, white fingers clamped around the hilt of his blade. He didn't move, and after a moment, Shion realized Nezumi was waiting for him to release his grip on the blade.

Shion's fingers slowly uncurled from it, and once he was no longer at risk of being cut, Nezumi gently drew the blade back. He spun it once, the silver dancing across his fingers, before pocketing it in a black leather hilt strapped to his hip.

Shion exhaled with relief; he'd half expected Nezumi to wrench it away, the silver ripping his fingers open and staining the pavement with his blood.

Nezumi stared at him. "If you were smart, you would have tried to stab me with it when you had the chance."

Shion's blood chilled. He'd been expecting this. How foolish to expect sympathy from a faerie. Even so, Shion struggled to keep the trembling out of his voice as he replied, "Maybe. But you probably would have dodged it if I tried."

Nezumi's lips quirked at the corners. "Fair enough."

Shion stared at him. Nezumi seemed to be favoring his non-injured arm, but he didn't look nearly as hurt as he had the night prior. Shion couldn't help the swell of pride that shuddered through him. Perhaps his handiwork had helped Nezumi make it to his court long enough to get some real help. He was standing here, right in front of him, alive and well when by all accounts he should have been dead in the ground.

But Shion's interference had also allowed Nezumi to return to punish him.

Shion frowned.

"Um," he said, "how's your arm doing?"

"It's fine." Nezumi lifted it, rolled his shoulder, then lowered it again. "Better than yesterday."

"Good. That's… that's good."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"So…" Shion said, shifting.

Nezumi exhaled, clearly annoyed, and stuffed his hands in his pocket. It was such a ridiculously human gesture, and Shion couldn't help the nervous laugh that bubbled up his throat. The whole thing was just so strange. Shion had helped someone, knowing full-well that his assistance would result in his own demise. And now the faerie who'd come to kill him was taking his sweet time with it.

"Why are you here?" Shion asked.

"I came for my knife." Nezumi narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't where I remembered leaving it."

Shion flinched.

"Stealing from the Folk isn't a smart habit."

"I wasn't trying to steal it," Shion replied. "I don't know why I took it. I didn't intend to keep it, though. I left it on my windowsill for you."

Nezumi looked up at the second-floor windows. "You expected me to scale that? With a busted arm?"

Shion blinked, slowly. Huh. He hadn't put much thought into that. He'd just assumed that, if the Folk really wanted something, they'd find a way to get it.

"I…" Shion frowned. "I don't know."

Nezumi sighed. "Well, however it happened, I got it back."

Shion nodded. "You did."

Nezumi stared back at him. The silver in his eyes glistened; two swords catching in the light like a death threat. "You know," Nezumi said carefully, "you're really weird. You let a faerie know you can see us. You do know what happens to humans with the Sight, don't you?"

"I've… heard stories." Shion folded his hands and straightened his spine. "And I'm prepared to deal with the consequences."

Nezumi blinked.

Shion closed his eyes. He wondered if maybe Nezumi would simply blind him. Losing his sight, in both ways, would be a strange and unfortunate experience, but Shion would survive it. It would be a struggle for his mother, but at least Shion would still get to be with her. That would be the kindest punishment Nezumi could extend to him. But if he'd been ordered to, Nezumi might be prepared to drag Shion back to the faerie world and deposit him in front of the king he served.

Nezumi clicked his tongue, and Shion flinched in anticipation. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and saw that Nezumi hadn't approached him. He stood watching him with a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

What's he waiting for? Just do it already!

"You know I can see you," Shion snapped. "You know I'm a human with the Sight. Faeries don't like humans who can see them. So, if you're going to hurt me, why don't you just do it already?"

Nezumi pressed his lips in a bloodless line.

Shion's hands trembled. The anticipation ached worse than the possibility of punishment. Nezumi was a member of the Fair Folk; cruelty was in his nature. Shion's vision blurred at the edges, a mixture of terror and frustration shuddering through him.

"I'm not here to punish you," Nezumi said, the words scraping over his teeth. "I came to get my knife back."

Shion's shoulders dropped in surprise. "You're… what?"

"I told you. I owe you a debt." His silver eyes darted to the sky; Shion's spine tingled with terror, but when he looked, there wasn't anything there. "You think I'd offer you a debt if I meant to come and hurt you?"

I don't know what you intend to do. Shion's head spun with shock. Safu's grandmother had filled him with stories of the Folks' cruelty since the moment she discovered he had the Sight. Shion had spent his whole life in constant terror of a faerie discovering his secret.

And yet, now that the worst had happened, brought on by a strange conviction Shion had no name for, his expectations had fallen to pieces on the pavement. Nezumi stood in front of him, armed and invisible to the rest of the world—but he didn't intend to hurt him.

Shion's throat stung as he murmured, "Can I ask you a question?"

Nezumi's spine straightened. "That depends on what it is."

"That girl," Shion said, remembering the stench of pale blood as it splashed across the café floor. "Why did you kill her?"

Nezumi frowned. His hands shifted inside his pockets, but Shion didn't worry that he was in any sort of danger. The Fair Folk couldn't lie, after all—but then, it didn't make sense why Nezumi would murder a girl under the King's orders and then not hurt him. Certainly, whatever faerie king Nezumi served knew about Shion's Sight by now.

Nezumi's voice darkened as he finally asked, "Which one?"

Shion's heart clenched. Somehow he'd been anticipating that answer, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. He closed his eyes and let out a steady breath. Arguing with Nezumi wouldn't get him anywhere. No matter his motivations, Nezumi was a faerie: prone to shifts in mood and strangeness that Shion's mortal mind couldn't hope to comprehend.

"Nevermind. Just—what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know I can see faeries now." Shion stuffed his own hands in his pockets, just to have something to do. "I can't imagine your king's too happy about that."

Nezumi's eyes widened. He took a sudden step forward, and Shion scrambled back. His heart hopped into his throat, his hands raising instinctively up in front of him. He stood no chance against someone with Nezumi's combat skills, but the feral horror swirling inside his mind filled him with a rush of ice-cold adrenaline.

"How," Nezumi said quietly, "the fuck do you know about him?"

"I—I know a little bit about faerie courts." Shion's mouth was dry as he amended, "I mean, I know some stuff based on what people wrote." The lie felt weird falling from his lips, but he wasn't about to sell out Safu and her grandmother. "And I heard you mention a king, when you killed that faerie girl in the café last night."

Nezumi's hand shot out of his pocket, but it went to his bangs and shoved them out of his face. His pale knuckles clenched one of the strands as he twisted it nervously around his fingers. "Fuck." He looked down at the pavement. "Fuck."

Shion's body itched to escape. His heart had never beaten so fast in his life. He couldn't feel anything except for the icy rush dancing down his spine.

Nezumi's not going to hurt me. He said he wasn't here to do that.

But he could always change his mind, couldn't he?

"Whatever you think you heard," Nezumi said, his voice growing low and dangerous. "Just forget about it."

"I—," Shion said, shaking his head. "I wasn't going to do anything about it. It's not like I can just tell people I saw you. I'm not an idiot."

Nezumi snorted. "Sure. That's why you helped me last night."

"If I hadn't, you'd be dead."

Nezumi's lips drew back over his teeth.

Shion kept his hands raised and slowly took a step back. "I'm not expecting you to repay me. The fact that you haven't killed me is more than enough. I don't expect you to—"

"I owe you a debt," Nezumi growled. He took a menacing step forward. "Much as I hate it, I owe you for what you did. I can't just forget about that. If you're lucky, you'll never need to collect on it." He glared at Shion. "Although, given your track record, it's only a matter of time before you do something stupid."

Shion bristled. He'd never been one for handling insults. And even though Nezumi was leagues ahead of him when it came to combat, the thought of just letting a comment like that go made Shion's blood burn.

"Big talk from someone who needed a human to save him," he spat.

Nezumi's eyes widened.

Shion glared back at him. He trembled from head to toe, but he clenched his hands into fists and stared down the faerie who'd followed him back to his mother's bakery. He thinks I did something stupid? He's the one who got himself hurt! I saved him!

"You—," Nezumi snarled.

"Shion?"

Shion whirled, his heart leaping in his throat. His mother stepped around the corner, confusion splashed across her face.

"Is everything OK? You've been out here awhile."

"Yeah, Mom, I—" Shion glanced back, but Nezumi had vanished. There was no sign of him. He'd simply bled into the shadows, between one moment and the next, and disappeared. Here and gone, just as quickly as he had the night before.

Karan took a step forward. "Shion?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Shion replied. He stared into the empty alley, the phantom sensation of the knife's hilt in his palm. "It's nothing."

To Be Continued...