After calling Yoming, Karan came back with a bucket of water and two washcloths for Nezumi and Shion to wipe themselves down with. She apologized that they couldn't linger long enough to make use of her shower, but Nezumi assured her it was more than enough—anything to sponge away the stink of stale tunnel water was a blessing. She gave them their privacy while they cleaned up and changed, and by the time they were done she had packed a small bundle of apples, bread, cheese, and water into their little laundry bag, as well as a first aid kit. She topped it all off by gifting Shion a pen and notepad to take with him on the journey. If it were up to Nezumi, he'd have Karan canonized as a saint.

She and Shion said their goodbyes in the bakery. Once they left the building it would be for the last time.

Once again, Nezumi tried to give the mother and son the privacy they needed. He turned away and mentally catalogued their plan. Karan would bring them to Yoming's in her van, under the pretense of visiting a friend and delivering a load of fresh bread for him to bring the Peacekeepers in the eastern districts. Karan reassured them that a 5am house call was not that uncommon for a baker and a conductor with the hours they kept, so the Capitol wouldn't be too suspicious of the timing.

Shion and Nezumi would hide in a box in the back of the van, and Yoming would transfer them onto the train headed for 12. They would be riding out to freedom in two-hours time. The trains in the Capitol moved at breakneck speed; if they didn't make any stops, they would arrive in District 12 in two days.

Movement flickered at the corner of Nezumi's vision and he turned to watch Karan approach.

She smiled at him, teary-eyed. "Be safe, Nezumi." Then she wrapped him in a tight hug.

Nezumi jolted in surprise. Karan smelled like sweets, and her embrace was fiercely affectionate and full-bodied. Nezumi felt the ache of his long dead mother in the hug, and he was both relieved and disappointed when she released him.

"Take care of him, Nezumi," Karan said softly.

Nezumi averted his eyes from the searing warmth of her stare. He couldn't help but feel out of his element. He had experienced so much turbulence in the last week alone he was surprised he was even functioning. Still, he realized as he stared down at the grout in the tiled floor that this was the most submissive he had ever been, and although he appreciated Shion taking the lead for this first leg of the journey, he didn't want to sit back and let the waves roll over him anymore. He couldn't stand this uncertainty or helplessness. He needed to be strong— for himself, and for Shion.

Nezumi forced his eyes to meet Karan's and nodded. "You don't have to worry," he assured her.

Karan peered at him. "And let him take care of you too. You need each other to get through this." She squeezed his hands. "I know you'll succeed."

Shion came up beside her and smiled between them. He tapped his wrist where a watch might rest if he wore one.

"You're right, we should get going…" Karan released a loaded sigh. "Right… Oh!" She turned to Shion. "What about Safu? Do you want to leave a message for her?"

Shion's mouth tightened at the corners as he thought this over. Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes glazed with guilt. Karan touched his cheek and nodded. Nezumi wondered what she understood from Shion's silent decision. He got the feeling from Safu that she and Shion were close friends, and yet Shion wouldn't say goodbye to her.

Nezumi felt the night and their freedom stretching toward morning. "It's time to go," he said. He felt a little guilty himself as Karan dropped her hand and shared a sad look between them.

Karan loaded them into her van. Nezumi and Shion huddled snugly in a crate sheltered amongst the fresh breads and sweets she planned to deliver to Yoming. The ride wasn't very long, but in the dark closed space it felt like eternity. The car glided smoothly across the cobbles of the Capitol, but Nezumi's heart jostled in his chest. He swore he could hear its beats vibrating inside the crate. Or were they Shion's?

The van stopped and they heard the thump of the driver's side door. All was silent. A new eternity began. He and Shion's legs knocked together, shin interlaid against shin. Every breath Nezumi drew in was already warm from Shion's exhale. Nezumi's back and legs ached from their cramped position and the nape of his neck formed a layer of sweat, which trickled down his spine. He wanted desperately to squirm, to stretch, to burst out of the tiny wooden prison and take a gulp of fresh cool air.

Shion's hand touched his knee and gently patted until it found his hand. Shion gave his hand a squeeze. Nezumi assumed the gesture was supposed to be reassuring, and even though the other boy's hand was clammy from what Nezumi guessed were his own fears and discomforts, it did help him feel less agitated.

The door to the van popped open and they tensed.

"This is quite the shipment," said a male voice, which must have been Yoming. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble." Karan murmured modestly and Yoming's tone warmed. "Well, the Peacekeepers are going to be pleased. The grain over in 12 is like sand; it's not often they get to eat something as delicious as your bread." He laughed at what must have been a skeptical look from Karan. "It's true! I swear, they've told me that exact thing."

Nezumi raised an eyebrow in the dark. This guy's a good actor. He was committing treason and he was still able to joke and laugh like it was any other day.

There was silence for a moment and then the sound of wheels. Nezumi grit his teeth as the crate they hid in skidded across the floor and tilted downwards. Shion gripped his hand tight as gravity shifted him flush against the wall of the crate. They plopped down and leveled out with a dull clang, only for the crate to slant again slightly as Yoming angled a hand truck or a similar contraption to wheel them to the freight train.

"You kids okay in there?" Yoming whispered through the lid of the crate once they were safely deposited inside. Nezumi knocked lightly after a moment to communicate they were fine. "I'm going to crack the top of the crate, but don't get out until the train starts moving," Yoming continued in a hush. "We'll be making one stop at a way station just outside District 12. That's when you two jump out of the train. One stop, one chance. I can't help you past that. Good luck."

The top of the crate creaked and cracked as Yoming pried the lid open. His footsteps receded and the door to the compartment thudded shut.

Shion let out a quavering sigh, and Nezumi found himself echoing it.

Nezumi and Shion sat across from each other, the rumble of the train lulling them into a tentative state of calmness. They hadn't spoken much since they climbed out of the crate, probably because both still wouldn't let themselves believe they were safe. It felt like at any moment the train would screech to a halt and Peacekeepers would flood the compartment, their buzz batons held like promises at their sides.

But slowly, as the miles slipped by and the hours ticked on, they began to relax. And Nezumi began to remember Shion had a lot to answer for. A few beams of light crept into the compartment from the cracks in the doors, and Nezumi studied Shion's face in the low light. The white-haired boy was staring at the boxes of sweets in the corner as though weighing the propriety of breaking into one for a snack.

"How long were you planning to escape?"

Shion flinched out of his trance and looked at Nezumi with a dazed expression.

"You knew exactly what to do from the moment we decided to run. That takes planning. How did you know about the tunnels?"

Shion opened his mouth, closed it, frowned, and dug the pen and pad from his pocket. He crawled towards the center of the room where the light was best and began scribbling his answers. Nezumi scooted closer and peered at the paper, trying to read the words upside down as he wrote them. Shion paused mid-letter and glanced up at Nezumi with a beleaguered tilt to his eyebrows. Nezumi scowled and sat back to wait for him to finish. A minute later Shion handed him the pad.

I've been keeping an outline of sorts for a year now. After I was taken from the Banquet they put me down in the tunnels to work. While I was there I memorized most of the paths beneath the city. I thought it might come in handy for when I did try to escape. I was thinking about it, but then they moved me to the Training Center… Which turned out to be a good thing, because I met you again.

Nezumi pressed his lips together at the last sentence but kept reading.

Older buildings usually have access tubes to the tunnels, so I suspected the Training Center did too. It could have been cemented over, but luckily, it wasn't.

Nezumi nodded slowly. "I see."

Shion took the paper back and flipped to the next page. Everything went smoother than I could have hoped. It made me look pretty impressive, huh?

Nezumi scoffed. Shion grinned back and wrote again.

I didn't start piecing together a plan until the Peacekeepers came to question me though. And then I didn't know what would happen when we got to my mom's. I just hoped…

Shion shrugged. There was a hint of embarrassment in the gesture. Nezumi didn't think he had anything to be embarrassed about. It was a pretty good plan, and even if Shion hadn't known if it would work one hundred percent, it did work, so there was nothing to be sorry for.

"Alright. Your explanation makes sense," Nezumi conceded. "One more question, though." He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Shion. "Where the hell did you get these clothes? They don't even make an attempt at fashion. These are hideous even by Capitol standards."

Shion tilted his head and inspected Nezumi's outfit and then his own. They were both wearing a variation of a collared button up and slacks. Shion's was white with gray horizontal stripes, while Nezumi had the misfortune of landing a light blue plaid number.

I don't think they're that bad, Shion replied.

"Well, obviously. These are your clothes after all. What's messing me up is that you actually wore these in public. I'm surprised you weren't hunted down and imprisoned by the fashion police. The Capitol has those, doesn't it?"

Shion tipped his chin and smiled indulgently. Has anyone ever told you your jokes aren't funny?

Nezumi snorted. "This coming from the guy whose one and only joke was about being mute."

Shion scrunched his face and shoulders in a sign of concession. He rose and pulled the loaf of bread from the laundry bag in the corner, ripping it in half and handing Nezumi one end.

Nezumi munched on the bread leisurely, closing his eyes to better savor its rich taste. Karan's list of admirable traits kept growing and growing. The Capitol didn't deserve her. Nezumi turned to Shion to reiterate his compliments to his mom, but paused.

Shion had popped a small piece of bread into his mouth and was chewing with a slowness and concentration that made Nezumi want to hold his breath, even if he wasn't sure of the reason. After a few measured chews, Shion stopped and pressed a finger into his mouth to feel around. Nezumi didn't mean to stare, but he couldn't help but be mesmerized at this odd ritual.

Shion noticed. He caught Nezumi's look and immediately pulled his finger out of his mouth and turned away. Nezumi dropped his gaze and kept it glued to the floor until he finished his portion. He only looked up again when the notepad appeared under his nose.

You probably want to know… It's to make sure the food's chewed enough. I don't really like people seeing that side of me…

Nezumi shrugged and cleared his throat. "It's not like you can help it. You gotta eat. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Shion still looked pretty embarrassed though and Nezumi didn't think he could convince him to feel otherwise.

There wasn't much to do when night fell. Shion couldn't write in the dark and even if he could, Nezumi wouldn't be able to read his responses. Nezumi attempted to carry on a one-sided conversation every once in a while when the silence stretched on too long, but that grew tiring.

Well, this is fun. Nezumi sighed. Huh… At least now I can sigh whenever I want. He sighed again just for the heck of it, and smirked in spite of himself.

Shion moved in the dark and Nezumi listened. They had resumed their positions across from each other, but from the sound of it, Shion was inching his way toward him. Nezumi felt a hand touch the tip of his shoe and directed Shion to move about a foot to his left. Shion settled in beside him against the wall of car and they sat together for a few seconds before Nezumi received a tap on his shoulder.

Nezumi hummed a noise of lazy acknowledgement—then sat bolt upright when Shion took his hand and pulled it into his lap.

"What?" Nezumi asked aloud. His insides squirmed at the blind skin-to-skin contact, but he tried to give Shion the benefit of the doubt and didn't pull his hand away like his gut reaction wanted him to.

Shion flattened Nezumi's hand, palm up, against his knee and scribbled his finger across it.

Nezumi furrowed his brow. "I don't…" he started, but paused as Shion began drawing a pattern with his finger. A line, then another line, connected at the top of the first at an angle, then a smaller line bridging the two. Nezumi concentrated as Shion repeated the pattern on his hand.

"A?" he said after Shion had finished. Shion made a small, excited noise and squeezed Nezumi's hand in his own. Nezumi smiled. "I see what you're getting at. Draw another and see if I can guess it."

Nezumi guessed the next few right, only stumbling once between whether a letter was P or D. It was a time consuming way of communicating, and Shion's answers were even more limited than they were before, but it wasn't like they had anything better to do, and Nezumi had to admit, it was a fun game once he got the hang of it.

They played a question game until they tired of writing and guessing, respectively, and settled into sleepy quietude. Nezumi listened to the rumble of the train. It sounded hypnotic after a point, and he felt himself grow drowsy.

Shion began to hum beside him. The melody was tentative and faltered in places, but an itch of recognition nagged at Nezumi.

"Is that the nursery rhyme I sang at my interview?"

Shion stopped humming. "Mmhm."

Nezumi wrinkled his nose. "Blast from the past…" he muttered. "I never liked that song, but I thought the Capitol might."

Shion wrote the letter Y on Nezumi's palm.

Nezumi shrugged a shoulder. "The melody is cute. The Capitol likes cute. I don't like it for the exact same reason."

Shion was still a moment before pressing his finger to Nezumi's palm again. Nezumi concentrated on the letters. The first was S… Shion finished. A pause and then he added a question mark to the end, for politeness, Nezumi imagined.

Sing?

Nezumi wet his lips. It'd been a while since he sang, and he hardly ever sang for anyone but himself. Even singing at the interview was strategy to improve his standing. But what the hell?

"Any requests? Although we probably don't listen to the same music."

Shion scoffed. 7 song, he drew on Nezumi's hand.

"Hmm… Alright… I think I know one that would suit." Nezumi cleared his throat. "This is called 'In the Beech Forest.' " He took a deep breath and began to sing.

On a distant mountaintop

snow melts into a stream

and turns green in the beech forest.

The village is covered in flowers now.

Young maidens, lovelier than the flowers,

pledge their love in the beech forest.

Young one,

soak your feet in the green water,

run like the deer, and kiss the maiden's hair before the flowers wilt.

Shion had laid his head on Nezumi's shoulder during the first verse, and by the end he was fast asleep by the sound of his breathing. Nezumi smiled softly, leaned his head back against the compartment wall, and tried to find sleep as well.