The streets stank with a sickening odor that would make anyone from the city cower away in fear. Nezumi held Sion's hand tightly as they made their way to Rikiga's place. He wanted to be out of the crowded and violent streets as quickly as possible.
"Well, I have absolutely no idea." Rikiga sighed. "Maybe you got some sand in your eyes and they're irritated. The wind's been rough these days." Nezumi paced the length of the room, while Sion sat in the sofa across from Rikiga. The latter's tone gave away the fact that he wasn't too interested in the topic they were discussing. People went through harder times in their life; it would probably pass over in another few days. They had only waited a day before they came to bug him!
"I don't think I did…" Sion sighed and tried to think back, wondering if that were the case. Nezumi paused, and then decided it was enough.
"Fine, we'll come back in a few days if nothing changes. Come on, Sion." Nezumi took Sion's hand in his again and they made their way to the door slowly.
"Mhm. I'll tell if I find anything out." The door was slammed.
"Nezumi?"
"What?"
"I hope… it's just like what Rikiga-san said." Sion sighed. His brooding was seriously dampening the atmosphere of the room. Nezumi wasn't contributing much either, his silence only worsening the situation. Their thoughts weren't pessimistic but nonetheless depressing.
"I'll start cooking." The tension was hard to bear and working would keep his mind off it. 'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'sitting around won't help at all.' He hummed quietly as he maneuvered around the room with less difficulty than before. He had memorized the layout of the room in record time and he could almost walk normally, if not a bit slower. Chores, though, were another story. Sion had a hard time cleaning the clutter of books scattered about. Cooking was only difficult when he spilled a bit as he tried to spoon the food from the pan to a bowl, which was what he was doing at the moment, attempting not to spill as he poured two bowls of stew.
"I'll do it." He took the bowl from his hands and easily spooned the stew into the bowls. "Sit down first."
"Nezumi. Stop thinking so much about it! Here, let's eat and have some fun alright?" Sion plopped down onto the couch and extended his hands to receive the bowl from Nezumi. Sitting down next to Sion, Nezumi kept up the small talk and Nezumi followed his lead. Their topic of conversation was literature. They both had that in common, and would only stir minor dispute.
"Nezumi?" Sion suddenly stopped his rambling.
"Yeah?"
"What kind of plays do you put on? You know, at your job?"
Nezumi froze. His stomach was twisted into a tight knot. If he told Sion, he would probably ask even more, and in the end, he'd really have to let Sion sit in a crowd full of predators that could and would take advantage of him and then… the list of possibilities went on and on.
"Is something wrong?" In the end, he would be able to refuse.
"Well we do a variety, it depends on the director."
"Really?" Sion blushed. "I hope that it'll be a comedy when I get better… I really want to see soon!" Nezumi watched as Sion smiled to himself, probably dreaming about watching him on stage performing. "Nezumi, aren't you going to eat?" The said male looked down, remembering that they were in the process of eating dinner.
"I'm eating then." Taking a spoonful, he shoved the stew into his mouth. Then he promptly spit it out.
"Eh? Nezumi? Is it that bad?"
"Sion, wait here." Sion could feel the fear that was rolling off Nezumi. "Sion, can you eat this? Wait, don't swallow it yet." Sion was given a small round object, what it was, he couldn't tell. But then he trusted Nezumi so he popped it into his mouth.
"What's it taste like?" Nezumi held his breath.
"Nezumi? What are you talking about? It doesn't taste like anything."
To be Continued...