Spider Lily

Chapter Three

And I can tell just what you want

You don't want to be alone

It was because of that damn storm.

Yeah, that was a good thing to do. Blame all his problems on something he couldn't control: Mother Nature herself, a wild and dangerous deity but oh so beautiful. Just like the women that roamed the Earth, really.

It wasn't unlike Nezumi to blame every little thing on Mother Nature (it was her fault anyway.). It was her fault that his hair became brittle and his fingers and toes froze in the middle of the night, long after the warm flame went out.

She would spite him regularly, it seemed. She just had to choose the time when he needed meat to freeze the grass the deer fed on for several days, making it inedible so they wouldn't come into his trap. Then, just to really piss him off, she practically made it rain ice.

She was a bitch, to put it bluntly.

He didn't know when the rain finally stopped, though. It had to of been sometime in the middle of the afternoon the next day, because had lost all track of time thanks to the cloud cover. And the lack of light. It was tormenting, not knowing what day it was or the time or where he was. Frustrating. Annoying.

He hated it.

Nezumi would deal with it, though. It wasn't like she didn't provide for him or anything. She put the clothes on his back and the tools he needs to survive. She herself is one hell of a craftsman when it comes to natural beauty in the world.

The trees and the flowers (Even though they are a rare site in the place he's in.) and the flowing rivers with the fish swimming aimlessly in the water, only concerned with food and reproduction. If only human life could be that simple.

Humans have to have emotions, thoughts and ideas. Humans couldn't be as simple-minded, going based off of instinct like the other animals out there. There had to be something extra there, something that made the brain function in the way it does.

'I wonder how animals see us?' The dark-haired boy wondered to himself, sometimes. He had read a book once where a monkey developed some sort of monkey autism and could understand basic human language and functions. He could read third-grade reading books and write all the basic words that are only five letters long.

Of course, the book was fiction and written right before the world went to hell with The War and all. Back before the Babylon Treaty was needed to make humans that were so fixated on power and money and complete control. So really, Nezumi could say that the author was a genius of his time. He still could be, if he had survived the initial war.

He probably had a lot going for him, too. That book was apparently a best seller, written by some "American" as they called it back then. Now the "Americans" are simply citizens of No. 3.

No. 3 isn't nearly as advanced as No. 6 was (since it is no longer a number, but a place as far as his knowledge extends.) and has the highest crime rate along with the obesity. It's the lowest in test scores and the lowest for the elderly.

That may sound like a bad thing, but they are free to pretty much do whatever they want there. They don't have to live in underground cellars filled with books from floor to ceiling in a place where you can get mugged just for stepping outside of your own home. (Despite the high crime rate.)

They don't live in a false utopia, to say the least.

It didn't really matter much, because he was nowhere near No. 3, nor would he like to be. He was only about thirty or so miles away from the outskirts of No. 6. If he was to go there now, it would take him maybe five days to get there. Not very far, considering everywhere he had been in the past two and a half years of his life.

He remembered just six months after leaving Shion with his promise to return (Which he will indeed keep) he ran into an animal he had only read about: A live bear. Even living in the forest for the first twelve years of his life, he had never seen one up close and personal before. Just in the books and stories his mama had told him as a young child.

He had seen deer, wild pigs, wolves and all sorts of animals like that, but never had he seen something so large and intimidating as a bear.

He was in the mountains, minding his own business (Since there was no one out there anyway.) when he saw it: A ball of brown fuzzy fur that was moving only slightly.

God forbid he ever use a word like it, but he could almost call it "cute" if he wasn't such a hardass. Due to his curiosity he simply wanted to get a closer look.

But he got a bit too close.

Of course, the one time he decides to do something peaceful without any kind of worry of getting a bullet to his brain, he becomes careless.

It wasn't the first time to had to put up a fight, to make a long story short.

He had gotten closer to the ball to find that it was indeed a little bear, playing with a stick. (Stick as in a good sized branch.) He was caught off guard at the playfulness of the bear. His mama had always made bears out to be ferocious creatures that weren't to be messed with.

The bear saw him, though, and proceeded to egg him into playing with him. Nezumi didn't see any harm in it.

And it was harmless. He was enjoying himself until he saw a shadow come over him and a roar that would have made anyone else piss their pants twice in a single moment and vomit with fear.

That was when he remembered his mama's stories and that's when he knew he fucked up. Big time.

He didn't escaped unfazed, though. He's still sporting a large scar on his leg that came from none other than mama bear's giant, razor sharp claw. He was lucky for just that, though. Stronger men wouldn't have even left the short lived fight they had.

Sometimes he felt the only reason why he was able to survive that was because he had been shot before, multiple times. (That's what he told himself, anyway.) There's nothing like the pain of being shot.

To him, being shot was a simple feeling. The bullet rammed past the skin, into the muscle and hit the bone where the impact would spread around his entire body, but feel comfortably numb at the point of impact. Well, after the first few times, anyway.

Then again, he was more or less concentrated on everything but the gunshot wounds when it happened, so his memories on what it felt like on being shot was a bit hazy to say the least. It was rather difficult when watching the person you care deeply for take another life when it is unlike them to even consider handling a weapon.

But it happened. They were both alive, but it did happen, and he would never get the memory out of his head.

It was all in the past, though. And not even he could change that fact.

Nezumi was currently traveling south, back towards the region that No. 6 resided in. There wasn't anything there for him (Besides a certain white-haired boy.) to go to since his real home, the home of the forest folk, was burned to the ground. There was his great library that he could go to finish, since he had barely put a dent in it during the time he lived there. Nezumi could also pick up being an actor again. It wouldn't have been that difficult, since he could recite all of Shakespeare's work by heart.

He honestly had no idea was he was going back to the God-forsaken place. He hated there, and it was surely crawling with scum and ignorant rich people that hadn't worked a day in their life. Just because the wall was taken down doesn't mean anything.

Of course, he could be wrong. He had Shion as an example of that. Maybe he was just being biased on it. He was working his way back, wasn't he? And to think he hadn't even seen the world.

He had met a few people, surprisingly. They were all famers who lived in the dark and saw him as a strange, "high-tech" being. They had to have been. He didn't break it to them, though. That would just crush the illusion that they had of the world they used to live in.

"They took my daughter away years ago on some sort of hunt," An older lady had told him one day when he was seeking refuge in what he thought was an abandoned building. It must have been one of the first man-hunts, before they started killing people. Or maybe her daughter was a recruit for No. 6's society. Nezumi's mama had told him about them before...

The old woman showed him a picture of her alleged daughter. In the picture, she looked to be around his age. She wasn't ugly nor pretty. Her hair wasn't in any sort of fancy style, and she was wearing minimal makeup on her face. She was average, if that's what someone wanted to call it.

For whatever reason, the woman insisted that he take one of the copies of the photo when he getting ready to leave. "So you won't feel so lonely," She said, making it the only reason why he took it. That and because of her pestering. He had never caught the girl's name, nor the woman's.

No matter, he hadn't really looked at the photo much since it was at the very bottom of his worn out rucksack beneath what few clothes he had, food, and general equipment. He had looked at it once for a few moments a few days after he left the old woman and her family.

The woman had told him what her name was, but it escaped him as he looked at the photograph. It looked like what was considered a "school" picture. The back ground was blue and all that was seen were he shoulders and head along with what he assumed was a school uniform. She must have been a high school student, if his knowledge from books were correct.

As he said before, she wasn't ugly nor pretty, but just average. She might of had someone who considered her attractive, but he had no way of knowing that. This woman was probably dead, and probably has been since before he was even born which would make her age somewhere around forty or so if she was alive.

But from the way the war had escalated, she was most likely indeed no longer of this world.

Nezumi sighed at that thought; How easy it was back in those days for a person to live their life. It hadn't been simple for him, either. He was forced to grow up, running every day from the hell called No. 6. The officials, the so called "Peace" officers... all of it. He couldn't trust a single soul.

He grunted out loud at his building frustration. Here he was, going back to the said hell. Why on Earth was he going back? Sure, he promised Shion he would come back, but why right now?

He stopped walking on the dirt path he was currently traveling on. The birds were out and singing their melody, and the trees surrounding him rustled in the morning wind. Small animals were scurrying around him, gathering food and playing.

Why couldn't he just stay here and forget about his promise? When he was here, there wasn't any kind of running. There was plenty of food and shelter, and no one would ever dream to come out here. As far as the world knew, he was dead. Only one other soul (Well, two if you count that girl Safu.) knew he was actually alive.

He would honestly love to keep it that way.

He silently trudged on, though. Even after being apart for two and half years, Shion still had his fingers curled around him, leading him to where he was.

Nezumi would keep his promise.

Shion ended up arriving late at "work."

He wouldn't have been late if his mother hadn't "suggested" that he do a little bit of cleaning before he left. Since Shi-Shi had spent the night the last few days, there were a few toys scattered around the small hard-wood floor and a few puddles of God knows what. How had he not noticed them before?

He did as she asked (What else could he do?) before she insisted that he have a full breakfast for that morning. He did his best to inform her that he had already eaten, even though it was a blatant lie. He just couldn't stand to be late for work, especially with everything so tense right now.

He ate his breakfast as quickly as he could without his mother giving him a side-ways glance that said "Hold your horses."

Right when he was about to head out, Karan said that she had something to do that afternoon, so she couldn't take Shi-Shi back to Inukashi. In turn, that meant that Shion would have to wake the sleeping child and gather his things (Since Karan was too busy with her own work.) and then take him over to Inukashi's hotel.

Shion was annoyed by the situation, really.

When he arrived at his work-place, no one said anything to him about how much he was really late. They just greeted him, handed him some files that needed to be reviewed, then sent him on his merry way. Well, merry if he was in a good mood. Which he was not. Not in the slightest.

The few manila folder files that were handed to him were superficial and pointless, really. They had nothing to do with the environment or the current police force or anything to do with the new stucture that No. 6 held.

All they contained were records that didn't even matter, for they ancient texts, recorded before the Babylon Treaty. They should be in some child's textbook, not steadily piling up on his desk.

He sighed at the absurdity of it, even though there was nothing he could do about it. He had been kept in the dark about what No. 6 had been doing for weeks now, even though he was considered a high ranking official. He was too soft-spoken to say a word about it, however. Shion simply thought it was something that the other high-ranking officials were doing.

Shion was certain that wasn't true, even though he told himself that every day now.

He sighed once again and looked at the clock that rested against the white-wash wall of his so called "office," Lunch was in an hour and a half, but he would not be eating today. Instead he would mull in the files that were piling up on his desk and collecting dust, going through them and giving his "seal of approval" before they were filed away, never to be seen again.

This wasn't what he had in mind when he was asked to become a scientist for the "betterment" of No. 6. He expected something a bit more... Adventurous, working in his preferred line of work. Ecology.

For a while, it was that way. Granted he worked behind a desk for a while, trying to gather all what was left of the information base of No. 6 since the motherboard was mysteriously destroyed. (Thanks to his truly, and Nezumi.) That didn't exactly take a long time since the high-tech city had low-tech back ups, (Otherwise known as the dreaded filing system.) and thanks to the wonderful invention invented years earlier, it was easy to scan the documents and put them back into place. (Even though the majority of criminal records were eliminated. Hence why he had his job now, being a major criminal and all that jazz.)

The white-haired boy was happy about his job for a while, too, until he began to realize that he would probably stay stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life at that rate. He had never technically graduated high school (Even that much was still in tact of the records.) and he was too old go back now. The only reason why he even had his job was thanks to his IQ.

And even then, it was a burden.

So there he was, two years later (Even after being told he would have a job in his expertise.) sitting behind a wooden box with compartments, staring at a computer screen.

Shion leaned back in his uncomfortable computer chair. He looked just above the computer and at the doorway that allowed people to come in and out of his cramped office. Hamlet was resting on top of the monitor. Sleeping, Shion assumed.

He had boxes filled to the brim with papers, stacked against the wall and up to the ceiling that would eventually be sorted then put away in a place where they would never be seen again. Well, maybe a thousand years from now, when the world had all but ended and some person stumbled upon the dry filing room in search of fire-wood.

That would be the fate of the paper boxes, and probably to Shion, too, at this rate. Maybe he would spend his entire life, day in and day out, in the constricting room. It seemed that's what he pondered on when he was too frustrated with himself and those around him to do much else.

He then sat up straight in his chair, his hands falling against the keyboard as he stared at his computer screen for hours on end, browsing through digital files that he would never look at again.

Shion didn't look away from the computer screen until he looked down at the corner and saw that it was several hours past regular people's bedtimes. "Damn," He said softly to himself, his voice hoarse. It wasn't like him to lose track of time like that, nor to realize that it had gotten dark outside.

He leaned back in his chair again, this time staring at the ceiling above him, resting his eyes and tired brain. Looking at meaningless files for hours on end can really take a lot out of a person, it seemed. His eyes were felt strained and his body felt uncomfortably numb. There wasn't any telling how long he had sat in the chair in the same position.

Stretching a bit, he felt something small scurry up his torso and onto his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me it was getting late?" Shion lowered his slender arm and placed his index finger in front of the little grey mouse that was perched on his shoulder. The little grey ball merely chirped and ran across his back to his other shoulder.

If there was one thing that cheered Shion up (Even if only a little) it was Hamlet. The little fuzzball had always been there with him, ever since the decomposition of the wall. "I bet mom is already asleep..." He said aloud, to no one since he was probably the only one in the building. (Minus Hamlet, of course.)

He straightened in his chair after he figured he had enough of a stretch, then he shut down the computer. He didn't exactly have to gather his things since they were all still in his bag from that morning. He pushed his chair in, grabbed his shoulder bag, cut out the light and stepped outside.

The hallway was eerie to him without anyone (presumably) there. Sure, he had the hallways before anyone was hired to work there, but that was different when he was used to seeing people scuttle up and down the hallways from his office window when the blinds and door were open. Of course, that was also during the day when people were awake and working.

He walked slowly down the dark hallway, since it was only after a few meters that a light was actually on for him to see. He had never realized exactly how long the hallway was and how quiet a busy place could be when no one was there. He could hear the rhythm of his footsteps and the ringing of silence that accompanied the darkness.

When he was nearing the end of the hallway (or what he thought was the end of the hallway.) a lit room on a branch hallway caught his eye. Surely no one was still there...?

He stopped walking for a moment, contemplating if he should go see if anyone was still there, or if someone was simply too careless to turn out a light. He stepped off the course of the main hallway and onto the branch one.

When he was only ten feet away from the doorway, he heard a voice that made him stop in his tracks. "... It has to be done." The voice he heard was urgent. Pleading.

There was a pause, making Shion hold his breath. He was never one to eavesdrop on someone's conversation, but he had been so bored recently, and this was the department directly across from what he "supposedly" did, the ideology department.

As far as Shion knew, they mostly dealt with new ideas and plans for the betterment of the city. They would help new organizations and businesses and help No. 6's city government. They were also the direct link to his measly paycheck, too.

"Look, I kno-... Yeah but-..." The owner of the voice sounded desperate, "Okay. It'll be done... Yes, okay. Goodnight," He heard the snap of a phone closing and a long sigh being released. Shion then heard what he assumed were papers rustle and the squeak of an old rolling chair.

The white-haired boy released a breath he forgot he was holding, then high-tailed it out of there when he determined the person wasn't going to say anything else.

When he got to the house, he found it empty and cold with only a note from his mother notifying him that she was spending the night at someone's house and would be back early the next morning. He glanced at the clock for a moment. If morning meant early enough to start baking bread, she would be there in an hour or so, leaving him with a few short hours to rest before he had to get up again and go back to his workplace.

He took a short shower and eased himself into bed after that, thinking for a good half hour about what the person was talking about. It could have been about anything, really. It could have been about his daughter's birthday party or his wife's vase that he accidently broke. Or an affair. Or anything else that his mind could ponder on in the short moments before sleep took him over.

But in the back of his mind, a red flag was waving frantically, even though fatigue overtook him before he could register it.

There was no possible way that Nezumi could ever fully express his deep, undying hatred for walking in the rain. The moisture would seep in through his boots, soak his socks and make his feet feel so shriveled that he would feel like he was walking on feet that were two sizes too small. The same feeling would happen to his shoulders (Since his superfiber cloth couldn't exactly prevent rain from doing it's earthly good.) only they felt like they would cave in on him at any moment from the shivering he did.

And his face. Fuck his face. The rain would always make his nose feel like it would freeze off and his lips were so chapped, he couldn't even open his mouth they were so dry. His ears would get so cold that he could pierce them multiple times with a dull needle without him feeling it.

Well, perhaps that was an overstatement, but he did hate the rain when it was cold out.

That was the exact reason why he was in an abandoned building (No farmers or strange women trying to give him photographs of unnamed girls here.) that leaked only a little bit. He was curled up in a quilt that somehow managed to avoid being eaten by moths or be used as a nest for various animals. Granted, it smelled a bit musty but it was big enough to be used as a padding against the harsh stone flooring. He didn't mind though. He had slept in worse conditions.

The place he was currently in looked like it was a school of some sort, because he found an electric heater that used gas to operate. (which he was extremely grateful for.) and didn't take up much space.

There were chairs littered around the place when he came in with a few desks stacked on top of some of the chairs that hadn't been turned over. A few stacks of books where here and there giving the place a spooky look. The walls were bare and what he guessed was called a "black board" was at the front of the room that he was sleeping in.

He didn't pay too much attention, though. He was more or less concerned with getting his body temperature back up (Which is hard to do when there isn't another person present.) and food in his stomach. He had gone hours without eating and he was famished. He didn't normally go so long without eating like he did this particular day, but he found it very difficult to open a can of beans when he was doing everything in his power to keep dry and warm.

He wished someone would tell him that was a piece of cherry cake.

Heads up: It isn't.

But he had already eaten his can of butter beans, he was warm, and he was reading one of the books that were laying haphazardly around the room. It was an literature high school textbook from twenty or so years ago. It wasn't that hard to tell when he glanced at the pictures of the teenagers that were giving their best fake-smiles with horrible fashion sense.

Horrible to him, anyway.

The stories contained in the book were very interesting, though. He had never heard of some of them before, so he indulged himself for a few hours.

There was always something about Man's struggle to find what was good and bad always amused Nezumi. Especially from that time frame when the world was constantly at war and everyone had to watch their backs (Much how Nezumi does now.). The tale he was reading actually happened, though. (There was a twist, however.)

It was based in America, only one hundred years after the place became its own country. It was a story of love, betrayal, greed and justice. The story itself was based on what was called "The Salem Witch Trails."

The story itself was wonderful, in his opinion. The leading male role was one he found enticing. He was determined to get the truth of the matter out in the open for all to see. Much like Nezumi himself had not too terribly long ago. Alas, in the end, he was killed in a shameful way that wasn't fitting for his character.

But he accomplished much in the short amount of time that he had to do it in. Even after his death, many discovered that the whole nonsense of the witches was only child's play and put an end to all the hangings that were had.

It was upsetting to Nezumi that the man couldn't live to see that people out there did come to their stubborn senses. He died because of their said stubbornness, unwilling to get off their high horses to see the truth.

That was okay, though. For even after that, many lives were saved. Such as the life of his wife and unborn child. It was sad, but at least his legacy would live on.

Nezumi thought about that for a long while after he put the book away to turn in. What about him? He was the last of his kind. He had no way to have his blood-line or name to continue on. It didn't bother him too terribly much, but for a guy that was reaching a close on his so-called adolescence, that saddened him a bit. To think of all the relationships he had, not one was meaningful to him.

None in the arms of a woman, anyway.

He had many "relationships" during his time at the west block. He was only twelve when he lost his virginity for food, just so he wouldn't starve to death. To a man who's face he wished he could forget from time to time. He did many favors for women for money, food, and everything else he needed. He did so with men, women, the old, the rich… All of them.

They weren't always gentle, either. They took what they wanted from him, gave him what he needed and he would go on his merry way. The first few times of it happening, he felt cold and hallow on the inside. It eventually built itself into a wall of

Any of those that tried to get close to him were killed before they could (Not by his hands, however.) even think about reaching out to him. They didn't try to fall for him, though. They fell for his body, which was graceful and slender.

He never cared for them, though, for they all were nothing but a means to what he needed to survive. If it meant selling his body to greedy and lustful hands, so be it.

He never felt anything for those who took him to their bed, even after they tried to tell him they loved him.

He knew much better.

The only reason why he was able to endure all of it and not feel a thing for any of his so called "lovers," was because of the white-haired boy who dared to call Nezumi a friend.

It was all thanks to Shion that he survived the abuse day after day, knowing that he would see him again one day. That's how it was in the beginning, at least. He wistfully assumed that being away from him would end the spark that he felt deep inside of his chest.

However, it was true the feeling was buried away, deep inside him for the longest time, forgotten.

But then he saw him again. He saw how Shion made him feel like he was really alive, and he had a purpose for living. He had to repay his debt to Shion for saving his life. Sure, he did it with a much added interest, but how can someone repay their life, per se?

Nezumi sure didn't know. But that did not stop him from being somewhat attracted to the boy. And oh how he hated it. To think that he told himself daily "Do not get attached. Do not let him into your life" only to completely ignore his inner thoughts. Somewhat, anyway.

Nezumi sighed (Another thing it seems he has ignored.) deeply and looked out the broken window that he used to get in. The rain had finally stopped, but he still felt cold. In more ways than one.

A/N Eh, first off: Yeah, a bit Nezumi-centric going on. Sorry, I feel the need to develop him more than Shion right now lol.

Second: I bet a lot of you really hate me right now for not having it the length that I promised. But there is a reason: My ovary imploded not too long ago, school has swamped me (probably the reason why my ovary decided to spontaneously implode lol) and I kinda have been busy with a social life and jazz. I wanted to get this to you guys New Years Eve/Day but that didn't happen, and I am sorry.

I didn't want you guys to wait anymore than you really had too, so I promise I'll have the other 9,000 words in the next chapter (I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.) which you will probably get a lot sooner since I'm trying to keep my updates at least once on a month (Chapters are short now, but they will get lengthy. I proooomise.) instead of a month and a half. And when summer comes I'll have an update even more often than that. Yay. C:

Anyway, Merry Christmas/Happy Hanakuh/Yule/etc for those of you who celebrate anything (even though that was a week and a half ago.) and I hope all of you have a wonderful 2012! :D

-Orange

PS: Sorry for the bad song :( I couldn't think of anything else. If you don't know it, it's What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club. Tis a good jam, you should read it!