The man glared down at the report on his desk. One destroyed cruiser; one decimated transport vehicle; damages to a security gate and the Waste Disposal Facility's entrance; two hospitalizations and two casualties. All because of one sample, which had been stolen from their grasp in the midst of the chaos. He lifted his cup of coffee to his lips and took a heavy gulp to combat his oncoming migraine. He knew creating utopia wasn't an easy pursuit, but it was costing more than projected.

The lamp on the wall began to flash, signaling he had a direct call from the Correctional Facility. He answered it. A spectacled man in a loose white lab coat appeared on-screen.

"I was just about to call you."

"You lost the sample!" the lab-coated man rasped.

The man blinked. He had not expected such an emotional outburst. Through the decades they had spent together, he had seen the man get animated only a handful of times.

"It was beyond my control. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, an attack by armed radicals was the last thing I expected." The man scowled, glancing down at the report. "I thought we crushed all traces of resistance in the last Clean-up, but it appears some didn't quite get the message."

"Why did they take my sample anyway? What good is it to them?"

"I couldn't say. Psychological warfare, perhaps?"

"The timing was too obvious to be a coincidence. There must be a leak in your network."

"I'll look into it, but whatever the reason, two officers are dead and two more were hospitalized. Do you have any idea how much of a headache it's going to be to make up something to tell their families? And, by the way, one of the officers that died was a sample, but the data you gave me didn't list him as a chosen candidate. Care to explain what you were doing?"

"That wasn't my design. There must have been an error somewhere along the way. I'll check… But apart from that, I've had several successful resonances. I just need the last piece. That's why I needed that sample transferred immediately."

The man on-screen began to pace. It had always been a bad habit of his. The lab coat swished back and forth in front of the camera.

"That boy was a prime sample. His breeding made him an ideal candidate for a successful resonance, and the tests show he was responding well to the treatment. If I only I could spend some time with him in the labs, I would have all the data I need. He was the one; I could feel it. I need you to get him back for me."

All these years and he still only ever thinks of himself and his experiments. If his ingenuity weren't so instrumental to the success of No. 6's City Project, I would've dropped him decades ago. The man sighed at the lab coat.

"If you need a sample that badly, I can arrange to have another sent over."

"No, Fennec, you don't understand! He was ideal. Every aspect of his upbringing has been monitored to fit this program. There are no others nearly as compatible."

The man's ears twitched at the nickname "Fennec." It had been given to him when he was a much younger man, and he never liked it. He didn't even understand it; he looked nothing like the desert fox from which the name was derived. But he hadn't been called that in a while. The fact that the other man had used it was proof of his agitation.

He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "What would you have me do?"

"I don't care what you have to do. Get him back. Make the Clean-up earlier."

"Move it up? You can't be serious. I'm not going to send the army into the West Block to retrieve one lost sample when you can just get another quietly inside the city. Besides, didn't you see the report? The radicals are obviously getting dangerous supplies from somewhere; we can't just charge in as we did before. If we send the army, a conflict might break out and people will die, and if that happens word of what we're doing might get out. No. I will not mobilize the army. Forget it."

The lab coat froze in the center of the monitor.

"At least let me use the satellites to track him."

Stubborn old fool. Why can't you just let it go? But then a thought occurred to him. The group that attacked them was getting supplies from somewhere. Could another city have violated the treaty as well…? I should've paid more attention.

"If you can find him, then by all means," he sighed. "We should keep an eye on that group anyway, to see who their supplier is. But if the radicals have him, he may already be dead. They have no use for him, and they aren't known for their hospitality." The other man didn't respond. "But promise me this isn't going to interfere with your work. We've worked too hard to lose sight now."

I've worked too hard.

"Don't worry. I haven't forgotten. As soon as my experiments come to fruition, you will become the undisputed ruler of this land."

The man smiled at the image. "I look forward to it. Do you want me to send the sample from this morning to the Special Autopsies Room? Section V, was it?"

"No. The trial phase is over. I only require living samples now. I'll give you the list."

"Fine. Rashi will be discharged later this afternoon. I'll send him over with the samples by this evening."

"Fine."

The connection cut out. The undisputed ruler, huh? Leave it to him to come up with just the right phrase.

The man sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. It was still as hot as when he had filled it more than an hour ago, due to an adjustment mechanism built into the cup. During his uninterrupted term as mayor, No. 6 had grown from a small town to a prosperous entity in which people were free to create such products. He was the sole reason the city came to be known as the safest and most magnificent of the six city-states and earned the title of the Holy City. No. 6 was near utopia. He and his people wanted for nothing; they lived happy and leisurely lives. It was only natural that he should lend his guidance and good fortune to the rest of the world.

Outside the window the trees in the Forest Park were shedding the last of their leaves. Winter would soon be upon them. The man smiled. He hoped that the season wasn't the only change approaching.

XXXXX

When Nezumi awoke, one of his legs was asleep and his neck was sore. He reached up to rub his shoulder and paused.

His hands were unbound.

He pushed himself into a sitting position and his body groaned with the effort. The aches in his shoulder and chest were testaments to just how many times he had avoided death the previous morning. It had been one trial after another, and not a single moment of it made sense. Perhaps he should be thankful that he didn't have answers, since the only thing keeping him alive right now was the mystery surrounding his importance to No. 6. Well, that, and Shion's suspicion about his ability to rapidly age people and hatch wasps from their corpses.

He had thought the fire and brimstone dream from the other night had been a product of stress, but now it seemed like a premonition. The silhouette of the old man dying in his arms and the wasp bursting out of the Bureau officer's neck merged with each other. He didn't dare call it prophetic, but it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Still, he couldn't figure out how or why he was connected to such an unbelievable incident. The voice said something had started and that She would give him power; but whatever force had caused the death of that officer, he certainly wasn't controlling it.

If I really am going to get some kind of power, I wish She'd deliver it already, because right now I'm feeling pretty damn powerless. I've gone from pet of No. 6 to prisoner of a nameless terrorist faction. Hardly an improvement. Although, at least I'm more or less alone now.

He could hear soft breathing from the bed beside him. I'm no longer being watched. I'm still a hostage, but right now he's asleep. And my hands are fucking unbound.

He frowned at the patch of darkness where the bed was located.

How can this airhead who fawns over Shakespeare and mice be the same person who mercilessly gunned down a Bureau officer? Where's the shrewdness he displayed when manipulating his superior into sparing my life? I would've thought a kid from the West Block would be more intimidating, or at least more wary, but this guy… He's an idiot.

Nezumi wrapped the superfibre cloth around his neck and stood up. He thanked his captor for his tidiness and the room's overall sparseness, because it made reaching the door that much easier. He ran his hands over the surface. A single bolt. If silence weren't so vital, he would've whistled. It was too easy. He slid the bar by degrees to minimize the sound, but even with his care, it made a woody scraping noise.

He paused to listen for stirring behind him, then, with a twist of the knob and a muted click, the door was ajar. He opened it only enough to slip through, and then closed the door behind him.

And just like that, he was outside and unchaperoned for the first time in twelve years. He celebrated with a sigh and scaled the stairs to the surface. Dawn was creeping into the sky, giving it a musty tint. The desolate, ruin-dotted expanse around him offered no clues as to which direction to go. He never doubted he would escape No. 6, but now that he had actually done it, he realized maybe he should have given a little more thought to where he would go. Anywhere that wasn't near No. 6 had always sufficed in the past.

He took the path that led in the opposite direction of the city. He had no supplies and no specific destination, but for the moment that didn't seem to matter.

The world outside the West Block could very well be a nuclear wasteland, and yet I'd rather chance that than stay where I can see No. 6.

Nezumi smirked. The uncertainty of his destination may be cause for worry in the future, but at present he was enjoying the soft crunch of untrodden dirt beneath his boots. The sun had finally reached a height where it bathed everything in a red-orange glow. He looked back, squinting into the glare, but it didn't seem anyone was behind him. He couldn't see or remember which sad-looking blob was the entrance to Shion's underground bunker. The fortress walls of No. 6 sparkled white and perfect in the distance. The ragged outline of the West Block etched itself into the bottom of the wall, like faulty stitching on the hem of a wedding veil.

From this distance, the scene seemed like a mirage, and he hoped it would disappear just as quickly. He hooded the superfibre over his head and picked up his pace. He walked a few yards more when he came upon a swathe of rubble. The ruins of a sizeable building, it seemed. Parts of the structure were still standing, but it looked on the brink of collapse. He could cut through or go around it. He took a second's pause to consider. It was unlikely that going through it would prove any real threat.

That is far enough.

Nezumi froze. His eyes roved over the ruins, but it was obvious he was alone. He swallowed.

That voice. It can't… I'm not asleep.

You are awake.

He broke into a cold sweat. There was no doubt. He was awake, and She was right there.

This isn't happening. How can I…? How are you…?

It is starting, Singer. I am growing stronger. It will not be long before No. 6's destruction becomes reality.

He squeezed his eyes shut. I'm hearing things. I really did get brain damage yesterday and now I'm hallucinating. Take a deep breath and ignore it. He took his own advice and walked into the decimated building.

Singer.

A sharp pain jolted through his body. He stumbled, but caught himself on a slab of concrete jutting out of the dirt. He leaned against it, trying to quell the nausea that washed over him.

You must stay.

"What?" he croaked aloud. He could feel his heart pounding in his head, and it hurt more and more with every beat.

We must destroy No. 6. Is that not what you desire?

Desire? What are you talking about? I wanted to get out of No. 6, but I've done that. Now I'm leaving.

His breathing had become labored. A bead of sweat trickled down his spine.

What's happening to me?

If you remain here I will give you the power to destroy No. 6.

I don't want that power. I just want to leave.

He was beginning to sound pitiful in his own mind. He struggled to stand up straight, but it felt like his body was leaden. It was just like in his dream. Her presence bore down on him so heavily he could barley summon the will to think.

You do not want it.

The words were an emotionless question. Nezumi poured all his will into fighting his dizzying migraine.

You can do whatever you want to No. 6. I have no attachment to that place. It has nothing to do with me anymore.

You are a stubborn child. You know nothing. But you will be made to understand in time.

Nezumi's ears were ringing. No. Not ringing—humming.

No! He clamped his hands over his ears, but it didn't block the sound. It even seemed to magnify it. Stop! What are you—?

The sound of insects was deafening. They filled his head until he swore he could feel them crawling under his skin. His vision went spotty. He knew these symptoms. He didn't have long. He slid down the concrete slab onto his hands and knees.

What are you?

XXXXX

Something slammed into his stomach. Nezumi awoke with a gasp and coughed into the superfibre cloth around his neck.

"Get up," a voice hissed.

He squinted up into the lazy yellow glow. It seemed that not too much time had elapsed between his slipping into unconsciousness and being kicked awake. The figure was close enough to recognize even from his position on the ground and through the brightness. It was the girl that had helped kidnap him and came to deliver dinner last night. Safu.

She drew her leg back and Nezumi realized she was going to kick him again. He bolted into a sitting position, and remained there without getting fully to his feet on account of vertigo.

"You're pathetic," she spat, dropping her foot back to the ground. "Passing out like a goddamn princess. Unbelievable."

Nezumi grit his teeth and stood up. She was right. The fact that he had fainted was humiliating—for more than one reason. He had been so close to freedom, only to realize he wasn't free, and had never been. There was nowhere to go. There wasn't even safety in retreating within himself. For whatever screwed up reason he now had to contend with an enemy that could infiltrate his mind. These people from the West Block, the voice, and No. 6, they were all the same. No matter where he turned, someone wanted something from him, and he didn't know what and not a single one of them would give him an answer.

"Shion stuck his neck out for you, and this is how you repay him? Do you have any idea how much trouble—"

"I don't give a shit! I don't owe him anything! I don't owe any of you anything!"

The girl narrowed her eyes. She was several inches shorter than him, but she didn't look the least bit intimidated by this fact. She leered directly at him.

"I'm taking you back to Shion."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

She shifted, and there was something in her movement that compelled him to react. He snatched her wrist as she brought it up. There was a click and a flash of light. She was holding an open pocketknife in the hand he had just grabbed. A second later and he would have sliced his hand wide open. Nezumi tightened his grip and pushed down to ensure that her hand would go no higher.

Safu growled and he was suddenly aware of her other fist flying at his face. He raised his free hand just in time to prevent a direct hit, but the impact crushed his own wrist against his cheek. He bit back the pain and twisted his tingling hand around to grasp her forearm. She jerked her arm back, but he managed wrap his fingers around it. He exerted pressure and maintained her hands at chest level, although not without difficulty. Safu was skilled, but he had height and strength to his advantage.

She refused to give up, though. Nezumi jolted backward when Safu's foot connected with the bottom of his shin. If it weren't for the slab of concrete behind him, he might've been thrown off balance and overpowered, but his back slammed into the wall and kept him upright. He dug his fingers harder into her wrist and arm, half as a defense mechanism, and half as an outlet for his pain.

"Do not kick me again or I'll break your wrist," Nezumi breathed.

"You don't have the skill."

"Try it, and we'll see."

Safu hissed. The girl's expression was one of unadulterated rage. She wriggled, but his grip was firm.

Good. I hope you feel just as frustrated as I do.

"Let go."

"If you ask nicely, I'll think about it."

"…If you let go, I promise I won't stab you."

"I don't."

"Tch."

She stopped twisting her wrists. She still pushed back against him, but she had apparently decided that attempting to wrench her hands away wasn't going to work. Nezumi could practically see the wheels in her head turning behind her fierce gaze. The sight caused him to smirk and her to glower in return.

Grrrr.

They turned their heads. A large brown dog was crouched on the outskirts of the ruins. The hackles on its neck were raised, and its lips were pulled back over its teeth in a vicious snarl. It stalked a few steps closer. Nezumi could see a strand of spit swaying from its jowls.

GRRrr.

"We need to stop this." Nezumi glanced at Safu, who kept her gaze on the dog circling them. "You wandered into wild dog territory. If that dog's here, there's a high chance there are other dogs lurking nearby. And even if that's the only one, there is a decent chance it has rabies. If you don't want to die, you need to let go of my hand so I can defend myself."

Something about her words and bearing made Nezumi suspicious, but the dog was getting closer and growling louder.

"Lower your knife and I'll let go," he said shortly.

She relaxed her hand and Nezumi followed suit by dropping her wrist. Once her forearm slipped from his grasp, she sprang away from him.

"Hey! You—!"

Grrrr.

He froze. The dog was only a few feet away, and there was nowhere to run if it launched itself at him. The concrete that had benefitted him against Safu cornered him this time around.

"Heel!"

Nezumi looked up. Shion was running toward him. He drew to a stop in front of the ruined building and they locked eyes for a moment. The other boy's expression was hard, but he seemed more concerned with the snarling mutt.

"Heel!" he repeated more sternly at the dog's back.

The dog's ears twitched. It twisted around and directed a low growl at the teen.

"Down, girl."

Shion extended a hand and took a step toward it. The dog raised its tail and approached him. It rumbled once softly, but seeing that it didn't have an effect, it sniffed Shion's outstretched hand once, and then gave it a lick. Shion relaxed.

"Good girl." He patted the dog's head and it wagged its tail in return.

Of course. Of course the dog is his. Nezumi banged his fist against the concrete.

"Escape attempt's over."

Safu appeared in his peripheral vision. She was holding the knife in front of her, ready in case he tried to resist.

He growled. Perfect.

Shion's glare was smoldering. "I had considered you might try to run away, but I didn't think you'd actually be stupid enough to do it."

"What the fuck did you think I was gonna do? Sit around drinking tea and reading Shakespeare all day?"

"There's nowhere to go! There's nothing but dirt and feral dogs out there. You'd die before you reached anything. You don't even have supplies on you."

"I'll take my chances."

"I understand you're frustrated, but—"

"You don't understand shit! You don't know a fucking thing about me! And don't pretend like you give a damn about me or my safety. You're just worried about yourself and what your psycho boss will do if I escaped."

"Shut up," Safu growled. The knife glistened as she took a step forward.

"Safu, stop. There's no need for that."

"He's disrespectful!"

"It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, we all know there's truth in what he's saying." Shion fixed his gaze on Nezumi once more. "You're right; I'd be in a really bad position if you escaped. I can't deny that that is the main reason why I'd prefer you don't run away." Nezumi gritted his teeth. "However, don't misunderstand. I do give a damn about your safety, because I worked hard to prevent your death—twice. It might be selfish, but that kind of effort comes with a sense of responsibility."

"So, what? You think I should be grateful to you? That I owe you some kind of debt? Fuck you. You can take your sense of responsibility and shove it up your self-righteous ass."

He could feel the girl radiating hatred beside him, but she stood rigid. I almost wish she'd attack me again. At least then I could do something. But it looks like she won't act without that guy's permission.

Shion was frowning deeply at him, but his glare had lost some of its intensity. Either his thinly veiled anger had dissipated, or he had regained enough control to mask it. The boy sighed.

"Look, I know you're pissed, but can we continue this back in my house? The longer we stay out here, the more dangerous it is. No. 6 probably has satellites looking for you."

Given how "important" he was to the city, there were definitely satellites combing the West Block in search of him. Nezumi had already come this conclusion, but he had figured he could make it into the wilderness far outside No. 6's influence before they could mobilize and reclaim him. That had been the plan. But that had been foolish of him. What gave him the right to make decisions for himself when so many other people needed him, and obviously knew far better than he what he should and shouldn't be doing at any given time?

Nezumi squeezed his fists tightly to prevent himself from trembling. He couldn't even leave if he wanted to. He was outnumbered and outmatched, inside and out.

"Move," prompted the girl beside him. "We've wasted enough time."

Nezumi moved. It was a whole body effort, but frustration was a good motivator. Shion sidestepped out of the way when he neared. He walked alongside him, but there were a few feet and a dog between them. The girl continued to brandish her weapon behind him.

Nezumi glared down at the mutt ambling beside him. It was scrawny and its coat was missing patches of fur in some places. It looked like a miserable creature, certainly, but nothing like the feral beast it had seemed moments ago.

What a cheap trick.

"She's not mine," Shion said suddenly. He must've seen him appraising the dog, but he stared straight ahead as he spoke. "She really is wild."

"That one has its good days," piped the girl. "But I wasn't joking about the feral dogs. They exist, and in large numbers. If you pull another of your fainting spells you could very well be eaten."

Nezumi refused to dignify her remark with a reaction. I don't think I've ever met someone so annoying.

"You fainted?"

He could sense Shion assessing him with a vague aspect of concern.

I stand corrected.

He frowned. At that time… I didn't faint. It's more like I was made to faint… So if I try to leave, that will happen? Why does She care? Nezumi screwed his eyes shut. What do you want?

She didn't answer. He didn't expect She would, and a large part of him was glad for the silence and hoped She would never speak to him again. He suppressed a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The walk to the ruined warehouse that marked the entrance to Shion's underground room felt longer than expected. Perhaps his slow pace was the legitimate reason for this, but it was satisfying to think that he had managed to walk a decent distance away before he was caught.

How did they find me, anyway?

Shion stopped at the top of the stairs and looked up at the sky. He muttered something too quiet to hear and then called to Safu. "You should go on ahead. I can take it from here."

The girl's eyes flitted between her partner and Nezumi. "Your track record doesn't inspire confidence."

"Yes, I realize I was foolish. I'm reflecting on it as we speak, but I'll take better care this time. Promise."

Nezumi didn't like the sound of his words. I swear if he even tries to tie me up again...

The girl did not look at all convinced. She had her arms crossed, the knife-wielding hand placed on top with the blade pointing toward Nezumi. The posture was half threatening, half careless, and wholly obnoxious.

"Safu, you need to go. You'll get in trouble if you're late, and then Yoming will be mad at the both of us, so please, go ahead of me and try to stall if I'm not there in twenty minutes."

The girl straightened at the mention of their boss. "Well…" She pursed her lips and glowered at Nezumi. "Do you want to borrow my knife, just in case?"

The boy coughed a laugh. "No. You know how I am with those things. It's way more useful in your hands." Safu continued to waver and Shion took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for your help this morning. I really appreciate it. I know I'm asking a lot of you, but I need you to help me out a little longer by going ahead and covering for me if need be. Please."

"…Fine."

"Thank you. I'll be right behind you." He glanced down at the dog and petted its head. "Thank you, too. If you escort Safu downtown, I'll treat you to something later." The mutt's tail flopped from side to side.

Ugh. Kill me now. Nezumi turned away with a look of disgust. There should be a limit to how much saccharine dialogue captors can exchange in front of their hostage.

"You," the girl accused. "Pull another stunt like the one today, and I'll make it so you'll never be able to run again."

Nezumi smiled wryly. "Not as colorful as your boss's threats, but I'll keep it in mind."

She scowled at him for a good three seconds, offered a "Be careful" to her partner, and flounced away. The dog followed at a half-hearted trot. Shion turned and locked eyes with Nezumi. The other boy's expression was serious, although not altogether angry. He then sighed.

"Come on." He pressed a section of the building's wall, revealing the stairs beyond, and went down them himself. Nezumi narrowed his eyes.

Turning your back on me again. You really don't take me seriously, do you?

Just because he had overpowered him, this kid expected him to roll over and obey his every command? Nezumi could feel the anger simmering in his veins. Shion had stopped halfway down and was peering up at him. His body language read, 'don't tell me you're going to try and run again?' Nezumi clenched his fists and trudged down the steps.

Everything looked the same as when he'd left it, and yet the room seemed even smaller than he remembered. The door closed with a heavy thunk behind him, and Nezumi felt a familiar wriggling sensation in the pit of his stomach. It radiated through his limbs and made the air around him difficult to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew in slow breaths through his nose. In, out. It's not like he wasn't used to this.

"Are you feeling alright?"

He tried to block out the niggling voice. He would have himself under control in a few moments. If he could just have a little time—

"Do you feel faint again? You should sit down if you're not feeling well."

"Shut up!" He whirled around on the other boy, seizing him by the bandana around his neck and slamming him against the door. "Why can't you just shut up and leave me alone for one second! Your voice is infuriating!"

"You could've just asked," Shion said tightly. "There was no need for violence."

He grasped Nezumi's hands and pried them a few millimeters away from his throat. Nezumi pulled his elbows in and brought the collar of the coat up so that the boy had no choice but to tilt his head back to look him in the eye.

"Don't patronize me. I am so sick of everyone looking over my shoulder and telling me what to do."

"I'm not telling you what to do." A grimace flitted across his features as Nezumi's grip tightened.

"Like hell you're not. You're keeping me here against my will, and for what? So I can be a 'shield' for you and all your trigger-happy buddies. You feign innocence, but you're trying to control me just the same." He sneered. "You're just like No. 6."

"Don't compare me to No. 6," the other boy bit out. His face had finally shed its cool composure, and Nezumi could see the annoyance filtering into his features. His dark, almost purplish eyes were bright with indignation.

Nezumi's mouth twisted into an acerbic smile. "You are the same. Everything is just a means to an end, isn't it? You don't give a damn about who you trample on the way."

All at once, Shion's tightly pressed lips sagged into a frown, and his peeved expression dissipated. His eyes darted back and forth between Nezumi's in a manner as puzzling as it was irritating.

At last, he swallowed, glanced down at Nezumi's hands fisted in his coat, and said quietly, "I didn't realize you felt so suffocated."

Nezumi blinked. There was pity in his look and tone. He was being pitied.

"Stop that," he snarled.

He had begun to tremble from anger, and Shion tightened his grip on Nezumi's hands as a precautionary measure. Shion's face had undergone a third change, and he was now watching him with a look of steady determination.

"You should've just said something."

"Said something?" Nezumi echoed with deadly calm. "Oh. I see. So you're saying if only I had asked nicely, you would have gladly granted me my freedom? It was that simple, was it?"

"…No, I can't let you go," the other boy admitted sheepishly. Before Nezumi could react, he continued in a quick, earnest voice, "But if this situation really upsets you so much, we could make a compromise."

"Oh, yeah, by all means, let's compromise on my rights. I don't think they've been compromised enough."

"What? That's not what I— I meant we can make a deal."

"I'm not interested in making any concessions to you."

"You're not listening to me. I'm saying—"

"I don't care what you're saying; it's all bullshit—"

"Will you just shut up and listen!" Shion shouted. He seemed to have forgotten his opposition towards violence, because he clenched the superfibre cloth around Nezumi's neck and yanked it to emphasize his words. "I'm saying I'll leave! If it gets to be too much, tell me, and I'll leave the room!"

Nezumi stiffened at the outburst. His mind struggled to make sense of the words, but it could not come up with any interpretations he could believe.

"What?"

The other boy huffed. "Provided that you promise not to run away again, I'll agree to leave the room sometimes, to give you privacy. In fact, as soon as you let me go," he said pointedly, "I'll leave you alone."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"I'm completely serious. I do actually have a job, you know. One that I really need to go to now, and that I really can't be late to, especially considering…" He frowned and then sighed, releasing his hold on Nezumi as well as the tail end of that sentence. "I can't watch you all day, and I think we can both agree that tying you up again is not the solution, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Nezumi was having a hard time settling on a reaction to the torrent of words flooding from the dark-haired teen's mouth, although the emotion that seemed to surface most frequently was suspicion. The implausibility of the situation was enough to quell his anger however, and he relinquished his hold on Shion's bandana and took a step back.

"Let me get this straight. I try to escape, and your solution is to let me have free roam of your room while you go to work?"

"Yes."

"…Are you mentally incompetent?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's the only way I can justify your insane reasoning. I can't imagine how someone could have all their mental faculties and still be such a natural idiot. Or maybe you're just screwing with me?"

"I think I've said this before, but I don't appreciate your insults. If you continue to be rude, I might be inclined to take back my offer and tie you to that pipe over there. But I don't want to do that, and I'm pretty sure you don't want me to either."

Nezumi scowled.

"I have to go. I'm not ordering you to stay in here, I'm asking you. The outskirts of the West Block are dangerous. There are thieves and wild dogs and who knows what else, so please just…" He ran his fingers roughly through his bangs, pulling a few strands of hair loose in the process. "Just stay here and read a book, okay?"

Shion's face was imploring as he awaited Nezumi's acquiesce. Nezumi's face remained blank, neither a confirmation nor a rejection, but the other boy must have read something in his expression that he wasn't aware of, because he nodded once.

He offered a mysterious, "Don't open the door for anyone, no matter what they say or what you hear," and stepped out.

There was a soft click as he locked it behind him, and then silence.

Five minutes of waiting was all it would take. After that, anyone who could possibly restrain him would likely be too far or too preoccupied to come after him. That was the time to run, if ever there was one. There wasn't any reason why he should stay.

And yet… Her unexpected interference earlier complicated matters. If She wanted to destroy No. 6, that was Her business, but why did She insist on him being there for it? If he tried to leave again, would she render him unconscious like before? How did She even manage it the first time? If he did go out, and he did faint again, there was a possibility that he would accomplish nothing save for becoming some mutt's chew toy.

Even if he didn't have to worry about his mind being hijacked, the West Block was unfamiliar territory, and his desire for freedom in no way overrode his common sense. Without know-how, a weapon, or connections, his odds of traversing the area unharassed were dismal. As much as he wanted to leave, it seemed that every desirable path was barred, and his chances of success were too uncertain to make it viable.

He clicked his tongue. Wallowing in frustration was as frustrating as the frustration itself. With a growl, Nezumi turned away from the door and collapsed onto the couch.

"Unbelievable," he muttered to the open air.