When Nezumi did sleep, it was an endless parade of nightmares. Almost every one featured fire, and tonight was no different. Flames swallowed the dreamscape, but he could make out a blackened fountain and crumbling buildings around him. He couldn't see anything but smoke and ash, but he knew someone lurked in the flames, same as he knew that Sylva lay bleeding somewhere he couldn't see.
Nezumi searched desperately for her but no sound came out when he called. He wandered blindly until he stumbled and fell over Sylva's body. A feeling of self-hatred and helplessness washed over him as he watched the life ebb out of her, but he knew he couldn't let himself be consumed by it; Syrah was close.
He felt her presence behind him, her hand on his shoulder. He whirled around and knocked her to the floor before she could get her knife into him.
But when the smoke dissipated, the person beneath his hands wasn't Syrah. Shion stared back at him, his dark eyes bright with fear. This was a new development, but Nezumi couldn't say he was surprised.
Shion grabbed his wrist and dug his nails into the flesh there. The pain was sharp and stinging. A jolt of panic shot through Nezumi's chest.
This is real.
"Shit." Nezumi let go of Shion's neck and rolled off him. There was no smoke, no crackle of flames, just the soothing sounds of the forest playing on the speakers above his bed.
Shion sat up and Nezumi's insides shriveled. Great job. Fucking strangled a person who can't even talk. Shion's gray tunic had been switched for green, and he wore no make up today. How did he even get in here?
But then Nezumi remembered he had been so frustrated when he came home from the bakery, he had retreated to his room and spent the rest of the day simmering. He did not remember locking the door like he usually did.
Nezumi waffled between annoyance and concern as he watched Shion rub his neck.
"What are you doing in here?" Nezumi demanded, deciding to go with the more familiar option.
Shion pointed to the clock and then to the bedside table where a steaming plate of breakfast rested. He had overslept. Kal and Rico must already be in their second day of training. Nezumi chewed his bottom lip.
Shion coughed and Nezumi frowned at him. "Look, I didn't mean… Just don't sneak up on me like that again. All right?"
Shion waved a hand and slid the notepad and pen from the bedside table.
It's okay. I have nightmares too, he wrote.
Nezumi scowled. "That's great. Now get out."
Shion's face crumpled and Nezumi felt instantly awful. He never realized how many imperatives he used until this moment. "Just..." Nezumi fumbled. "Would you please leave?"
Shion hung his head, placed the notepad on the bedspread, and rose. Nezumi watched him shuffle halfway across the room before he couldn't stand it.
"Why do you always do that?" he growled at Shion's back.
Shion stopped and turned to him.
"Why are you always sharing stupid things like that? That's what got you into this mess. Haven't you learned your lesson already?"
Shion's brow furrowed. He crossed back to the bed and picked up the pen and paper again. He wrote a sentence, but paused to stare down at the page a few seconds before continuing in an impatient scrawl.
I don't regret what happened at the Banquet. I meant what I said, and I think it needed to be said. I've been waiting a long time to tell someone that. That's part of why I talk to you.
The other part is I see what you're doing, and it won't work. Things don't get better if you hold it in, and the Games don't stop if you pretend they have nothing to do with you. Maybe you're not ready to talk, but if you want to, I'm here. It sounds really cheesy, but I mean it. You don't have to be alone, Nezumi.
Nezumi read the words and frowned. Shion's face reflected a similar gravity, and a thought came unbidden to Nezumi's mind: that Shion had smiled a lot when they first met, that he had been silly and young and idealistic. The sobriety on his face now made Nezumi's attempt at anger fizzle.
Nezumi crossed his arms. "I don't want to talk about it."
Shion shrugged as though he knew this would be his answer, and Nezumi's irritation spiked again. He didn't like that he was apparently so predictable when he couldn't seem to figure Shion out.
Nezumi huffed and looked toward the door. "Can you knock next time you come in? I don't like people walking into my room unannounced."
Shion raised his eyebrows as if to say "obviously." This spark of sass lessened the cramp of discomfort in Nezumi's stomach; sass he knew how to deal with. Shion was changed, but he wasn't crushed, and that meant Nezumi didn't have to treat him with kid gloves.
"I need to get dressed," Nezumi said, hoping Shion would catch on.
Shion once again headed for the door.
"Thanks," Nezumi mumbled. Shion paused with his hand on the door handle. He looked somehow expectant, and Nezumi finished gruffly, "For bringing the tray."
Shion's mouth twisted in apparent disappointment, but he nodded and left the room. Nezumi watched the closed door, feeling inexplicably dazed.
Only Rou was present in the living room when Nezumi came down with his empty breakfast tray.
"Good morning," Rou greeted in his soft voice.
"Morning." Nezumi hovered just beside the TV. "Where's Gran?"
"She's discussing interview strategies with Gregor. This year's tributes are a little harder to pin down than you were."
Nezumi sniffed. "They're definitely rough. But not completely hopeless…"
Rou smiled. "By the way, is that cake on the dining room table yours? I had to keep Rico from eating it this morning."
Nezumi opened his mouth to say anyone could have it, but stopped himself. He frowned at the bubby yellow "Karan" written on the side and crossed the room to trade his empty tray for the cake box. He placed the cake on the coffee table and fell into the armchair across from Rou.
"That kid needs to slow down," Nezumi said. "At this rate he'll die of disappointment in the arena."
"I'd like to think he's just stocking up while he can. Rico's stronger than he looks, and he's no stranger to foraging."
True enough. Virtually all the districts were used to subsisting on crumbs.
"Nezumi, I wanted to speak to you," Rou said, an edge of caution slipping into his voice. "This is your first Game since your victory. It can be hard for some…"
Nezumi sighed. "Let me guess. This is the part where you say, 'If you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you.' Am I right? Geez, must have been something in the juice this morning…"
Rou sat up straighter and folded his hands in his lap. "I know you don't like to leave yourself open to other people, Nezumi. I understand that—I also prefer to keep to myself. But Gran and I want you to know that however you're feeling, that it's perfectly normal. If you need advice, all you need to do is ask." Rou paused a moment. His face grew taut and Nezumi felt a trickle of foreboding slip down his neck. "Has anyone contacted you?" Rou said at last.
"What do you mean?" Nezumi kept his voice devoid of emotion. The question could mean any number of things.
"Anyone from the Capitol, for example. No one has, right?"
Nezumi swallowed, but covered it with shrug. "No. Why?"
The ominous look on Rou's face softened a little. He nodded. "I see. Good. Well, if you have nothing to say…? Alright, we can leave it at that."
Nezumi settled back in his chair, his mind replaying the conversation for clues as to its meaning. Had Rou heard something about his talks with Shion? Or with Safu and Karan? Or was he alluding to something Nezumi didn't yet know about?
"Ah." Rou cleared his throat. "Also, Kal has requested your help with their interview."
Nezumi's eyebrows shot up. "They what?"
"Kal mentioned it at breakfast, and Gran and I think it's a good idea; you know them best after all. Please think about it and let Kal know at dinner." Rou pushed up from his seat and checked his watch. "I have to meet Gran and Gregor for a lunch with potential sponsors now. Would you like to come?"
Nezumi shook his head. His mind still reeled from Kal's request and whatever danger Rou had implied may come his way. He was in no condition to entertain.
Rou sighed. "People have noticed your absence, Nezumi. I'm sorry to pressure you like this, but we need your help… Even if you don't want to go yourself, please think about Kal and Rico. They need those sponsors..."
Nezumi kept himself very still as Rou stared him down. Then Rou sighed again, heavier and sadder than before, and left. Nezumi slumped in his chair.
What now?
Mentor protocol said he should be socializing, strategizing, or spying, but he didn't want to do any of that. He didn't want to stay holed up in the training center either though…
A young blonde server came out of the kitchen and pulled up short when she saw Nezumi. Her face did a quick flip through surprise and confusion before landing on curious. She shifted back and forth on her feet for a second and then turned and left the room. Nezumi wondered if she knew Shion, if the Avoxes and other servants interacted and gossiped like everyone else in the Capitol.
Probably. They're human too. But how many of them still held rebellion in their hearts despite the punishment? How many could say they didn't regret their choice?
The blonde woman came back with a knife and Nezumi sat up. She gestured to the cake, making a cutting motion with her hand.
"Oh…" Nezumi shrugged.
The woman made quick work of slicing the cake into eight congruent pieces. He was actually a little impressed with how precise her cuts were. She went back into the kitchen to retrieve a plate, fork, and napkin, and laid them out in front of him. Nezumi muttered a thank you and she flashed him a shy smile before scurrying off.
Nezumi scooted to the edge of the chair and carved a piece of cake out of one of the slices. It was delicious. The cake was soft and airy and the cherry and almond toppings were at perfect odds with each other; the cherry provided pops of fruity zest while the almond soothed the flavor and added texture. It just might have been the best cake he had eaten in the Capitol. At the very least it was the most artful.
Nezumi pulled the slice out and onto his plate. In the empty space in the bundt, Nezumi noticed a white blotch sticking out of one of the adjacent slices. He plucked it out of the cake and found that it was a folded slip of paper. Nezumi opened it.
I miss you. I love you. Stay safe. –K
A tingle of melancholy budded in his chest as he read the words. Karan was a bolder woman than he thought. He could only imagine what would have happened if Rico had eaten the cake earlier, or if he had left it as a free for all.
Nezumi held the small slip gingerly by the edge, careful not to smudge the writing. Seems like Shion takes after his mama… He swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat. I should probably get this to him…
Nezumi rose from his seat, stood a moment, and dropped back down again. He stared at the note, tracing the words with his eyes a second time, and a third time.
Shion must miss his mother. He deserved to have this note, and Karan trusted him to deliver it for her. But… If he gave the note to Shion would that be helping or hurting him? Shion had been torn from his family and maimed by the Capitol, but he had had a year for the pain to dull. Shion didn't seem well exactly, but he at least had made peace with his lot.
If Nezumi gave him this note, wouldn't that be tearing the wound open again?
This isn't your decision to make, Nezumi told himself.
But the minutes dragged as he stared at the words. I miss you. I love you. Stay safe.
Nezumi carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.
